


otherworldly

by asakami



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Time, Fluff, Smut, but they're both idiots, everyone in the story ships the two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 234,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asakami/pseuds/asakami
Summary: “But I want to be even better. For you.”In which Anna discovers that her personal growth coincides with the love she has for Elsa.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 1068
Kudos: 1437





	1. Chapter 1

Her mother is crazy. Legit. She’s, like, _ugh_. Insane.

Honestly, just because Anna’s getting a freaking _B+_ in calculus, she has to get a tutor? Oh, yeah, okay _–_ fine _._ It counts as concerning because she’s never gotten anything lower than an A- before. _Whatever._ She’ll accept that. But then her mother has the audacity to hire some _third-year_ university student _,_ someone who doesn’t actually hold a degree in math or teaching, to _teach_ her math?! And, what? This fishy person was just posting their contact information on the bulletin board at the community centre, which her mother so happens to volunteer at, and – _what the hell_ – who still puts up posters for jobs?! Is this person like, ancient?!

And now, due to a series of unfortunate events, Anna has to meet with this stranger twice a week, when she can be using her time to… well, it doesn’t matter! The point is, she doesn’t want to be tutored! She doesn’t need any help! She doesn’t _want_ help!

“But _moooooom…”_

“Oh, quit being so dramatic,” her mother says with an eye-roll.

“Speak for yourself,” Anna growls, flopping face-flat onto the sofa. “I already said that I only messed up on the test because my calculator died. I actually solved half of the questions without a calculator, _and_ I still managed to get a B. And this is only the first term! I can easily make it up for the second and third terms!”

“Back in my time, calculators were not allowed in calculus,” her mother says, rather as-a-matter-of-factly. Then, her tone becomes softer, “So, please, just take a few lessons? Just to make your poor old mother and father feel better about themselves? You’re always so capable with your studies, we never actually had to help! Do you know how much we wanted to teach you your multiplication table when you were younger? You can only imagine how mortified we were when we found out that you memorized it all on your own. Now that you’re doing such advanced math, there’s no way we can help but to hire a tutor for you.”

The redhead grunts again. She shifts on the sofa, twisting dramatically to sit upright at last.

Seeing how her daughter has given in, the mother chuckles. “Now, now, Anna. Stop sulking. Give your tutor a chance, won’t you? She’s really nice.”

“Please don’t tell me you hired her because she’s _nice._ ”

“Hm,” her mother shrugs. “I was just trying to help that girl out.”

“Ah-ha!” Anna raises an arm, pointing an accusing finger at her mother, “So you confess! You had no intention to help your daughter all along!”

“Untrue,” the woman defends with an adamant look, but then it falters in a heartbeat, “Well. Half-true.”

Anna narrows her thin brows.

But her mother ignores her and goes on, “She was just so sweet. The girl’s trying to save money for grad school. I think she wants to be an architect. God knows how expensive those programs are.”

“Mom, _I’m_ your daughter! Not some stranger!”

“Yes, I know, but—”

_Ding dong_

“Oh, speak of the devil. Anna, dear, would you please get the door? I’m going to prepare some tea for the two of you.”

Her mother disappears into the kitchen before Anna can protest, so she really has no choice but to comply. She fixes her braids on instinct and straightens her shirt a bit as she heads towards the door. Not that she has to look proper for someone she doesn’t even know. _Remember,_ she doesn’t care. Doesn’t care about some stranger whom her mother has picked up from the community centre. Seriously, a math tutor? Probably looks nerdy, dresses weird, and can barely articulate herself. Now, Anna isn’t a very cynical person, but one thing that pisses her off most is when somebody she doesn’t know tells her what to do.

But, again, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be over before she knows it. It’s just going to be a two-hour session. An hour and a half _at most_ if she behaved. Yes, that’s it – Anna is confident that she can make the lesson – this entire thing – end as soon as possible.

So she huffs, gripping onto the doorknob with newfound confidence, takes a deep breath, and swings the door open a bit too aggressively.

“…”

She was fully prepared to be as frank about it as possible. Anna had every intention to grunt a _let’s just get started_ right then and there, but… _b-but…!_

“Wow.” It happens so naturally. Her jaw just drops.

Because why the hell is there a freaking _Paris Fashion Week Runway Model-who-looks-like-she-walks-for-Dior_ standing in her doorway?!

“Um…” said model starts, eyelids fluttering (thick, long lashes batting adorably) in what Anna believes to be confusion. “Hello, you must be Anna.”

Wait. Wait, no. _This_ is her model? _Uh,_ no – she meant _–_ this is her… _er,_ what is this person supposed to be? Oh, right. Tutor. Yes. Math. _B+._

“My name is Elsa,” the model reaches a dainty hand out. “I hope Mrs. Eriksen has told you about me. I’m going to be your math tutor,” she says almost apologetically. Or is it just her voice? The way it’s so soft and gentle and delicate and is making her _feel_ _things._

( _Things_ so extreme that it scares Anna a little. Like, at this moment, the redhead thinks – _knows –_ that she would willingly jump into the street and get run over by a truck for this person.)

And if the model’s expecting Anna to shake her hand, then _hoo boy._ Because the redhead is thoroughly distracted. Dumbfounded, even. Her head is spinning. She feels as though her legs are locked in place. And she has so many questions!

Like, why are this person’s eyes so blue; how is it that her hair, being slicked back like that, not look gross and slimy, but rather manages to look feather-soft; why doesn’t that plait hanging off her shoulder have any frizzly hairs sticking out (like her own); why does this person look so vulnerable underneath that scarf – like if she stripped a layer of clothing away she would crumble and, _ugh, Anna will protect her with her life…!_

“Oh, Elsa!”

Her mother’s voice is enough to break Anna out of her trance. Thank god for that, actually.

“Mrs. Eriksen,” Elsa greets, her tone no longer layered with the aforementioned confusion that Anna sensed. It’s crisp and ladylike and rich and—“It’s nice to see you again. You have a beautiful house.”

The older woman chuckles. “It’s nice to see you as well, dear. And, I already told you – just Iduna is fine. ‘Mrs. Eriksen’ makes me sound like I’m middle-aged.”

At that, Anna raises a thin brow. “Aren’t you, though?”

Her mother glares. It makes the redhead shirk a little.

But then a cute little giggle comes from Elsa, and Anna immediately forgets the concept of time and space and gravity and the fact that she _needs to breathe._

“I’d like to have you know that I’m in my early forties, and I’ve been told that I look like I’m in my twenties,” her mother snarls, but there isn’t much threat to her tone. “And – my goodness. Can’t believe we’re making Elsa stand outside like this,” she doesn’t let her daughter retort and gestures at the blonde. “Please, come in. You two can have the session in Anna’s room,” she pauses to glance at her wristwatch. “I’ve got a few errands to run, so I’ll be heading out. You’ll be okay for a few hours alone, right Anna?”

It’s the redhead’s turn to roll her eyes. “I’m seventeen, mom. I can handle not burning the house down.”

“Alright,” her mother laughs lightly. “I should be back by dinner time. Thanks again, Elsa. Let me know if she misbehaves.”

The blonde shakes her head. “It’s no problem. I’m sure Anna will be great,” she says as she removes her heels. Anna notes that they’re not that high – three inches, at most – but it’s amazing how the blonde has the perfect height where she can choose to wear heels or not and still look… well, _perfect._

Her mother says one final goodbye and leaves with her purse and keys, placed conveniently close by. She’s out of the house so quickly, Anna barely has time to register what has happened. Actually, Anna has no time at all to register what _is_ happening. Does her mom expect her to just… be home alone with a stranger?! W-with this… this gorgeous, statuesque, _otherworldly_ girl who looks as though she’s sculpted by Michelangelo himself?! And that they are to have the session in her…

Anna gasps.

… _oh god. OH MY GOD—_

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” She squeaks. Yes, nothing is wrong, because she remembers – she cleaned her room this morning. In preparation for this moment. As in – like, not for _Elsa,_ but for her math tutor. Which. Is the same thing, but. It’s still. Alright. _Stop. Thinking. So. Loudly._

Just… calm.

She clears her throat and feels she should give herself a pat on the back when she finds the ability to grab a pair of blue, fluffy slippers with bunny ears for her tutor. “Here you go,” she says, placing them at Elsa’s beautifully pedicured toes. Her nails are layered in a glossy pinkish hue that is applied with such expertise that it looks completely natural. Like it just _blends in._

(Wait, is she checking out her tutor’s toes?!)

“Aw, they’re very cute!” Elsa says through her smile, putting on the slippers effortlessly. “And comfortable too. Thank you so much, Anna.”

She swallows, standing up to respond with a smile of her own. “No worries.” Anna wrings her hands together from behind, hoping that she can channel her nervousness away by fiddling with her fingers. “So, erm, I’ll show you to my room and we can begin?”

“That sounds great.” Elsa’s eyes soften impossibly more, and Anna thinks that she will drown in them if she doesn’t look away.

“This way.”

All things considered, the journey to her room is uneventful. She doesn’t trip going up the stairs, and she manages to be courteous (because if there’s one thing her crazy mother taught her well, it’s manners!) by opening the door for her tutor.

Yes, thank god her room is clean. She’s stuffed all her clothes back into her drawers, made her bed, cleared her desk of unnecessary junk, and all that’s left on there is her laptop, some stationery, and two steaming cups of peppermint tea – _thank you, mom_ – which is relieving because the smell of mint really calms her down.

… Hold on, does this mean her mom _knows_ she’s going to be freaking out?! _Iduna, you sly—_

“Your room is very cute,” Elsa comments, casually observing the pale pink paint job on the walls and the copious number of stuffed animals on the younger girl’s bed. Then, her gaze shifts to the few basketball trophies placed in Anna’s glass bookcase. They’re merely used to hold textbooks up now, though. “What sport do you play, Anna?”

“Oh, I, uh. Basketball,” she fights the urge to fiddle with her fingers, “I got on the team last year, and the trophies are just for looks. I didn’t even play much – I was mostly a bench warmer. Here, I’ll take your coat.”

Elsa removes her scarf and peacoat, handing them to Anna.

And Anna, to her credit, manages to resist burying her face in the clothing to take a whiff of _Elsa_. Seriously, the temptation is so strong. What perfume does she use? Probably something as unforgettable as her looks, right?

_Okay, enough._

Anna hangs them up behind the door and says quickly, “Um, you can take my chair.” She grabs the plastic Ikea foldable chair leaning against the wall to place it next to her own.

“You don’t need to be so tense,” Elsa sits down, and when she meets eye with the redhead, she starts chewing her lip. “I think I should be the one to be nervous…”

“Hmm?”

Elsa’s shoulders rise a little. “Well, I – you’re, um…”

W-why is the fairy queen (yes, Anna’s promoted the model to _fairy queen_ even though it’s only been, like, five minutes since she’s met her) stuttering? And why does Anna think that this is utterly adorable? Usually when people stutter, it makes them look stupid, but Elsa is… she’s—

“… my first student.”

Anna blinks.

Elsa shifts a little in her seat. “I didn’t expect that it would work out right away, considering how I didn’t even know what I was doing. Your mother was kind enough to help me out, and… well, here we are.”

At that, Anna fails to hold back the chuckle bubbling in her chest. “I’m – I don’t think the community centre’s bulletin board is where people post their resume nowadays… or, like, ever?” She wants to tell Elsa that if anything, she should upload her profile online. That way, people would hire her right away. Doesn’t even matter if she’s a newbie tutor. Just. _Anyone_ would hire her.

Because does the blonde have any idea what effect she has on people by merely _existing?!_

“You’re right about that,” Elsa says – once again in that apologetic tone, like she’s done something wrong. Her thin brows creasing upwards and it makes her look so, _so, so cute._ “I’m really bad with this stuff. I think it’s because I don’t go out enough.” She pauses to chuckle. “Anyway, should we get started?”

Anna smiles and fires up her laptop, clicking onto the tab with the results of her math test. Anna makes sure to avoid looking in her tutor’s way at all costs, because she figures that the more their eyes meet, the harder that pounding feeling will become. Instead, she just tries desperately to stay professional, “I didn’t do as well because my graphing calculator died halfway through the test. The teacher said it was my fault for not bringing extra batteries. But, like, who actually brings extra batteries for a freaking _calculator_? God, I hate that Weasel Town. He clearly had extra ones he could lend me! I bet he doesn’t like me because I, what? Make his tests look too easy?” She explains, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, whatever. I did the rest of the questions without the calculator.”

It takes a moment for Elsa to respond. Anna has to glance at the blonde to make sure she hasn’t scared her off with her rambling.

“You mean to say you plotted all your equations without a calculator?” Elsa finally speaks. “ _And_ you got such a high mark too!”

Anna just shrugs. “Apparently it’s not good enough,” _oh,_ she didn’t mean to sound like a show-off. “I-I mean, to my parents, that is.”

“And did you say Weasel Town?” She laughs, “He’s still there?”

The younger girl raises a brow. “You… know him?”

Elsa’s smile widens. She reaches for the laptop, scrolling to the top of the page and chuckles when she sees the school logo. “Arendelle High School. That’s where I went too.”

“What, really?” Anna forgets that she’s not in her office chair, so she can’t slide back with the intended dramatic effect. Instead, she nearly falls over when she leans back. “Whoa—” but her reflexes are quick and she grabs onto the edge of the table before she actually falls over. Anna sees that she’s nearly given Elsa a heart attack, so she quickly reassures the older girl with a quick _I’m fine_ before continuing, “That’s amazing! How come I’ve never seen you?”

Elsa just prolongs her smile. “I didn’t like talking to people. I mostly stayed in the library. Plus, I’m three years older. It’d be weird if we had the same friend group.”

Anna nods to herself. “I guess that makes sense.”

“That said, it appears that he’s still as unreasonable as ever.”

“He gave you a hard time as well?”

“Oh,” Elsa rolls her eyes, “It was the worst. He accused me of cheating for acing one of his tests. Can you believe that?”

Anna laughs. “Actually, yes. I can believe that.”

* * *

The rest of the session goes by quite smoothly. Anna clearly doesn’t need any help, but she listens to Elsa’s explanations with patience. Crush aside, there’s something about Elsa when she speaks. She’s so practiced and articulate. Anna wonders if she truly is Elsa’s first student.

“You’re like, really good at teaching,” Anna says as Elsa puts on her peacoat.

Elsa laughs lightly. “Oh, Anna. You didn’t even need my help. I could’ve been silent the whole time and you’d still understand everything I threw at you.”

 _True,_ Anna’s mind speaks, but no. That’s not what she wants to say. “No, I’m serious. The way you explain things is so clear. Like, you’re able to make math interesting.”

“Now you’re just sucking up to me.” Elsa’s trying to sound accusatory, but does she know that her cheeks are a tad pinker?

And if that isn’t the most adorable thing ever. Anna wants to see more. She _will_ see more. “Are you flattered yet?”

Sure enough, the pink shade deepens. This time, Elsa actively turns away. It’s her turn to avoid eye contact. “Yes, Anna,” she says softly. “Very much so.”

_Oof._

Her heart pounds a little faster. She feels blood rising to her face and she finds it hard to move. “Uhh…”

“Um, s-so our next lesson is Friday?” Elsa stutters.

Yes, that’s right, Anna didn’t hear wrong – Elsa stuttered. _Again._ Somehow, it makes the redhead a little more nervous. As if the older girl’s actions are intertwined with her own and that everything that they’re doing is capable of creating a butterfly effect and— _wait,_ what is her mind going on about?

“Anna?”

“Yes, uh,” she scrambles towards the door, opening it for her tutor, “Twice a week. Yes.”

The blonde just smiles that wonderful smile of hers and walks out, head down – apparently still attempting to hide her face.

And, really, Anna’s just glad that she didn’t fall down the stairs and in turn make Elsa fall with her when they were heading down. At the entrance, Anna’s eyes are glued onto Elsa’s feet, once again exposed when she removes the bunny slippers, and her breath hitches a little as the same feet slip into the elegant heels.

Which makes her realize: she’s probably developed a foot fetish.

“I’ll see you Friday, then?” 

Anna snaps out of her senses. She nods, a bit too eagerly for her own good. “Yep. See you then.”

With that, Elsa waves her a goodbye and makes her way towards her car. Anna stands at the doorway to see her out. “Thank you for the lesson today, Miss… um…” she stops, realizing that they’ve never established what to actually call her.

But Elsa helps her out. “Just ‘Elsa’ is fine, Anna. I’m not actually a teacher or anything. Just a part-time math tutor.”

Anna bites onto her lower lip. “Right,” she nods to herself. “Math tutor.”

* * *

“Anna, would you please stop picking at your food!” Her mother slaps the hand holding onto her fork. “And sit up straight! I didn’t raise you to eat like a child at the age of seventeen.”

She groans and does as she is told, making sure to not say anything more because it’s just _so easy to read her—_

“What’s the matter, kid?” Her father, at the other end of the table, eyes her with a risen brow. He wears a smirk as if he knows the problem, but is asking anyway because, well, _just because._

The groan comes out louder this time, and Anna fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Stop lying, dear. You’ve been all mopey since we came home. Did the session not go well?” her mother questions.

“Session?” her father cuts in. “Ah, your math lesson. It started today?”

“Yes,” Anna shakes her head. “I-I mean, no to you, mom. It went fine. And yes to you, dad. The lessons began today. _Not that I really need them…”_ she mumbles the last part.

Her parents eye each other silently. A mutual understanding gradually fills the two—without their daughter’s knowing, of course—and then, a grin spreads across her father’s cheeks.

Anna, on her part, is kind of disturbed by how sinister he looks.

“Well, then. I guess we shouldn’t waste money. If you really don’t need them, I’m assuming it’s okay to cancel the lessons, after all?” he states casually, twirling his fork at the spaghetti noodles.

The redhead widens her eyes. _Wait, what? No! This isn’t what she meant!_

“… I’ll just have your mother send a message to… what was the name of the tutor? The nice girl you’ve been talking about?”

“Elsa,” his wife finishes and takes out her phone. “I’ll give her a call. Hope it won’t bother her at this hour…”

_No, no. Nonononono. No._

“Hello, Elsa?”

_Oh no._

“Yes, it’s Iduna—yes, I’m doing well. Good evening to you, too!” her mother pauses to mouth a ‘ _she’s so sweet!’_ to her husband and daughter. “Listen, it really hurts me to say this, but I think Anna doesn’t require lessons anymore. She told me that—”

_No!_

Anna sits up from her table and reaches across the table to actually _yank_ the phone out of her mother’s hand. In the process, she nearly flips over the table and knocks over her glass of water, but that isn’t the end of the world. What _is_ the end of the world is the fact that her freaking mother is about to _fire Elsa—_

“Hello?!” Anna straight up just shouts into the phone. “Elsa! Hi! I’m so sorry! Don’t listen to her. My mom’s just joking around, there’s no way that… I… don’t…” her speech slurs. Catching the smirk on her mother’s face, Anna stops talking.

Slowly, she turns to see that her father is grinning the same way. Realization hits her like a lightning strike as her body turns cold and she draws the phone back to look at the screen—

“Oh. My. God.” It’s just the lock screen with the wallpaper of their family. “MOM!” The _nerve_ of this woman! In a fit of rage (more so embarrassment, actually), Anna slams the phone onto the table and sits back down, hiding her face in her hands.

“Now, now,” her father rubs her shoulder – an ill attempt to comfort her, seeing how Anna can hear the laughter in his voice. “We’re just playing. It’s okay, Anna.”

“No, it’s not! You two are the worst!” she yells into her hands, still refusing to bring her head up.

“Aw, I’m so sorry, dear,” her mother walks around the table to give her a sideways hug. She kisses the top of Anna’s head, “If I had known this would affect you so much, I wouldn’t have taken it this far.”

“Well, at least now we know the crush is real.”

Anna draws away, glaring at her father. “It’s not a crush,” she deadpans.

“Whoa – okay,” he pulls back, surrendering his arms in the air. “True love, then?”

“Dad! We’ve just met!”

Her parents then _lose it_. God _,_ she’s always the laughingstock. Not that she minds, really; she likes making people happy, but this… this is serious! They’re always pressuring her into finding a boyfriend or whatever, and here they are, just making fun of—wait. _Wait, hold on._

“Um…” Anna speaks up, scratching her cheek with a finger. Her nervousness seems to have gained her parents’ attention, as they are no longer stuck in their laughing fit. “Y-you guys are okay with… erm, like, me and another… girl…?”

Anna’s eyes are fixed on her mother’s reaction, fully prepared to face any kind of rejection, but then her father starts ruffling her hair. Anna turns to him and sees him smiling so warmly at her.

“Whatever makes you happy, kid.”

She feels her eyes go hot. Her nose turns sour and she thinks that she’s about to have a mental breakdown – in a good way, of course. So, in an effort to hide how touched she is, Anna decides to change the topic, “You guys know that you are literally paying someone to be with me, right? Do you think that lowly of me? That I won’t get someone on my own?”

“Okay, yeah,” her mother chuckles, “Like we would think that way of our straight-A, basketball star, kind and cute little redhead.”

Her father nods. “We’re pretty sure there have been people in the past who were interested in you… like that Kristoff boy back when you were in the third grade?”

“Oh, what about that Hans? He was so handsome! Doesn’t he still go to the same school as you?”

“Okay, enough!” Anna blurts. Thinking back, she is quite oblivious when it comes to things like this. Maybe she really does need her parents’ help. Maybe she is utterly hopeless when it comes to affections and such. “… It still doesn’t change the fact that you’re paying someone to, like, be _with_ me.”

Her mother wraps her arm around Anna’s shoulder, leaning in to give her a reassuring smile. “To be fair, we didn’t know you would get all heads-over-heels for her. We really did think that Elsa would be helpful to boost up your math grade. But now that it’s gotten so obvious that you’re in love…”

Anna feels her cheeks go warm.

“… it’s a win-win.” The woman grins. “We’re paying her to help you with math, and if you two do end up being together, then, well.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Her father adds with a wink.

“In any case,” her mother grabs her phone on the table. She unlocks it and scrolls through it, to what Anna assumes, for real this time, and continues, “Anna, would you please send her a message?”

Her head starts spinning. “W-why would I suddenly text her!”

Rolling her eyes, the woman just thrusts her phone in her daughter’s face. “Because, silly girl, you have a game on Friday, and you need to let your _math tutor_ know that you have to change the time for your lesson, lest she comes here with no one to teach.”

Her teal eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets in horror. “Oh, shit.”

“Language, dear.” Her mother warns.

* * *

Texting isn’t her strongest suit. Anna’s been told by her friends that her personality is translated through the rambling of her texts. Meaning, she can get quite uncontrollable when on the phone. Granted, she isn’t the type to get completely absorbed in a texting conversation, but if the occasion arrives, Anna can very well lose herself.

So, here she is, lying in bed, staring at the (quite literally) empty chat history between her and Elsa. Honestly, she’s making it much more complicated than it really is, but can it be helped?! The goddess’ phone number is in her possession, she’s about to text Aphrodite herself, and. Just. This _unlimited_ power is in her hands!

Anna rolls over to lie on her stomach, propping herself up with her elbows as her thumbs hover awkwardly above the keyboard.

“Okay. Okay,” she mumbles to herself, takes a deep breath, and starts typing away.

_‘Hey—’_

Wait, _hey?_ No, that sounds so dumb. Backspace. How about—

_‘Hi, Elsa!’_

Alright, okay. That’s much better. It’s much more _her._

_‘Thanks again for today, you were a great help! I really enjoyed our first lesson together. Anyway, I’m sorry to not have brought this up earlier, but it turns out I have a basketball game on Friday. Do you mind if we had our lesson at 6:00pm instead? Sorry for the trouble! – Anna.’_

Aaaand send.

The little _message sent_ sound effect chimes in her ear and Anna buries her head in her arms. It’s only then does she realize that she’s out of breath. Holy shit. And her heart is hammering against her chest. Jesus Christ, this is more intense than the basketball tryouts. She would much rather live through that nightmare again than to—

_Bzz bzz_

She snaps her head up so fast she hears her neck crack. But that’s the least of her concerns—Elsa’s… Elsa responded!

_‘Good evening, Anna. 6:00pm is no problem for me. Good luck on Friday. :)’_

Anna hears herself gasp—unnecessarily loudly. B-because… is that a smiley face?! Oh, good lord. A smiley face from Elsa! That is – that’s just adorable!

_‘Haha, thanks! I’ll be needing it!’_

She sends the text and tosses her phone to her side. The excitement bubbling in her chest is making her grin, and she doesn’t seem to hold any control in stopping it. Anna grabs her pillow and hugs it tight, resisting the urge to roll around on her bed like an overexcited little girl who has just found out that she’s going to Disneyland for the first time. Seriously, she can’t recall a time when she felt more energized. Yes, it’s just a text, but… but it’s from _Elsa_! And that smiley face! UGH—

_Bzz bzz_

Another gasp. Anna feels like expressing herself in caps lock—she nearly flings herself off the bed as she dives for her phone. Her fingers tremble when she tries to unlock her phone this time, but she forces herself to _focus!_

_‘Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure you’ll be great. Don’t think I didn’t catch the MVP trophy sitting on your shelf, “bench warmer” ;).’_

Anna’s jaw hangs loose. She glances at said trophy, now holding up a few heavy chemistry textbooks, but it has never shone this radiantly. She could run over and kiss the stupid brass cup because _holy shit,_ this trophy just earned her a winking face from Elsa.

“Oh, god.” Anna breathes out. She has to close her eyes a bit to take in the whole thing. Holding her phone to her pounding heart, she takes a deep breath and starts typing away.

_‘I’m the ‘Most Valuable Bench Warmer’ :P’_

Not more than a few seconds later, Anna sees the little typing speech bubble indicator in the chat.

_‘Stop being so modest!’_

Anna giggles. Then, another text.

_‘If I remember correctly, isn’t it almost impossible to make it into Arendelle’s senior girls’ basketball team? I heard the coach is unreasonably strict…’_

She’s flopped back over on her stomach. A grin is now permanently plastered across her cheeks. _‘You mean Coach Adam?’_

_‘The one they all call “Beast”?’_

_‘LOL yeah! Well, he’s actually a softie once you actually make it on the team. But during tryouts? Yeesh.’_

_‘But you got through it and are now on the team.’_

Anna chews on her lower lip. Elsa did tell her to stop being modest, but… she isn’t the type to flex. _‘I mean, I did almost pass out on several occasions…’_ Kind of true, _‘So it wasn’t all that easy for me!’_

_‘Okay, MVP.’_

Anna finds herself pouting – in all good fun, though.

_‘Alright, Anna. I’m heading off to bed. I’ll see you Friday 6:00pm, then?’_

She sighs to herself. As much as she wants to prolong this conversation… well, there’s just _no way. ‘Yep. Goodnight!’_

_‘Goodnight :)’_

Another smiley face, another rush of blood running straight into her heart. _Whew._ This is seriously not good for her health. Anna swings an arm over her eyes, trying to think of anything but how hot her face is.


	2. Chapter 2

While they are going against Northuldra High (also known as Arendelle’s arch nemesis) today, and that a lot of pressure is on the team, Anna can think of only one thing: _Elsa’s coming to tutor her after the game!_

Yeah, who cares about the game that determines whether or not they get into the regionals? Who cares if they’re going against the team that they’ve lost Senior Girls’ Basketball Championships to last year? None of that matters because she’s going to see Elsa tonight and—

“Anna… hellooo, are you there?”

The redhead slams her locker shut and blinks innocently at her friend. “Hm? What?”

Rapunzel gives her an eye-roll and knocks the book she’s holding against Anna’s head. “Did you not hear me? I said we should head to class early if we want the better seats.”

Anna brings a hand up to rub at the spot where Rapunzel’s’ hit her, pouting and glaring. “Of course I heard you. I was just…” Anna pauses to fish for the right words, “… thinking about stuff.”

“Oh?” Rapunzel raises a bemused brow. “Such as?”

 _Ugh._ Nosy Rapunzel.

“The… game.”

From that, Rapunzel’s stare becomes more… conspicuous? Like she’s dissecting the redhead without actually cutting her open, analyzing her very thoughts with eyes alone.

“W-what are you looking at?” Anna stammers, trying to pretend that she’s not bothered by how she’s being read like a book.

“Nothing in particular,” Rapunzel smirks. Oh, what a creepy look on a non-creepy girl. “Come on, let’s go.”

If there’s one thing Rapunzel’s good at (other than arts and crafts and keeping promises and practically _everything_ relating to studies), it’s reading people’s thoughts. This one time, Rapunzel whispered to her in class that she was certain Jasmine and Al ‘had a thing’ because they… what, brushed past each other’s shoulders? Anna just scoffed at her then. But, lo and behold, look at Jas and Al now. Literally inseparable. Regardless, Anna follows along wordlessly. It’s better to keep her mouth shut before her friend sees through even more of her.

The duo bump into a few friends on the way—Merida, Ariel, Meg… all wishing her luck for the game that she feels no excitement towards. Well, ‘no excitement’ is probably a bit of a stretch; it’s more so the fact that she’s distracted. Oh god, which means she might compromise the game. Well, there goes her MVP title.

“Psst, Anna.”

She’s so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn’t realize Rapunzel nudging at her with an elbow. “Huh—what is it?”

Rapunzel gestures in front of them. She comes closer to Anna to whisper, “Who is that talking to the advisor? She’s gorgeous!”

Anna blinks, trying to search for whoever her friend is pointing to, and… _and—!_

“E-Elsa…?”

“You know that girl?”

A burst of warmth spreads through her body. An uncontrolled grin fights to overwhelm her expressions and Anna isn’t even going to try anymore. “She’s my math tutor!” she answers, a bit too loudly before making her way towards the girl. “Elsa!”

The blonde reacts right away, turning her head to the voice and those wind-swept bangs sway with her movements. “Anna?” she greets in surprise but with an equal amount of joy.

Anna runs up to the taller girl and stops herself from throwing her arms around Elsa’s lithe frame. Seriously, Anna, chill. This is only their second meeting and she’s already trying to get physical? Damn, is she being childish or what? So Anna does the most logical and appropriate thing there is given the situation and turns to the advisor. “Good afternoon, Mrs. LeClair.” Maybe anchor her attention to something other than Elsa to keep her sanity in check.

“Oh, hello,” the advisor greets warmly. “If I may recall correctly, you must be Anna Eriksen from the basketball team?”

“Yep. This is she,” Anna grins.

The woman smiles in response and tucks a strand of hair behind an ear. “I hope my husband hasn’t been too harsh on you.”

“Well, he can be quite scary when we’re lazy during practice…” Anna’s eyes wander to Elsa, who is listening intently next to Mrs. LeClair, but she screams at herself to focus, “… but I think I personally haven’t pissed him off. Yet.”

The brunette laughs, which Anna would argue is the sweetest thing she’s heard if she hadn’t already experienced the sound of Her Majesty, the Queen, _Goddess_ Elsa’s laughter a few days ago. This time, she doesn’t fight the urge to look at said deity. The blonde is standing there, all prim and proper, letting the conversation between the two flow without interrupting. _God._ Elsa’s—she’s literally doing nothing but the impact she’s leaving on Anna is astronomical. Somebody please bring Anna a defibrillator before her heart bursts out of her chest. Actually, would a defibrillator work in this case?

“So, you two know each other?” Mrs. LeClair speaks up, shifting her gaze from the blonde to the redhead.

Anna clears her throat. “Uh, well. Erm. She’s my math tutor,”

“Which is confusing,” Elsa cuts in with a smile. “Because Anna’s math is excellent. I’m not sure why I’m even needed.”

“Oh, but I do need you,” the redhead says, a bit too eagerly for her own good. “I mean, you’re like the best math teacher I’ve ever had. You explain things so well. I really like it. Your, uh, explanations, that is.”

Maybe it’s the lighting. Maybe it’s the heat emitting from all the students roaming in the hallway. Or maybe it’s their close proximity, but Anna swears that Elsa’s cheeks have gotten a little pink. Jeez, did she say something wrong?

“Thank you, Anna,” the blonde says, voice so quiet it almost seems as if she were uttering it to herself. When her round, cerulean eyes meet Anna’s teal ones, they brighten up and soften. And that somehow makes Anna feel so reassured. She smiles back, and it’s like the noises surrounding them are muted. It’s like she’s experiencing tunnel-vision, because everything is blurred out except for the sight of Elsa, standing in front of her. It makes her feel so overwhelmed. Like that feeling the moment she opened the door on Tuesday. The same burst of emotions when Elsa replied with the smiley and winking faces through text.

“Ah-hem. Hello Mrs. LeClair,”

Anna gasps and straightens her posture. Oh, shit. She’s totally forgotten about the existence of Rapunzel. Totally forgotten that she just ditched her friend back there to nearly throw herself onto Elsa. Rapunzel doesn’t seem so bothered by it, though, because she’s just smiling so affectionately at everyone. But, _oh, don’t think I don’t notice that smug grin,_ Anna thinks when Rapunzel turns to her, but then her friend, still bearing that smug face, turns to the platinum blonde.

“And hello,” Rapunzel reaches a hand towards the taller girl. “You must be Elsa, Anna’s math tutor! She’s said so many great things about you!”

 _No._ No she didn’t. Literally. Rapunzel _just_ learned of the existence of Elsa when they bumped into her mere minutes ago! What is Rapunzel going on about?

“Really?” Elsa blinks, brilliant blue eyes drifting from the redhead down to the floor and then back—shyly—to the redhead again. “We’ve only had one class together so far though…”

“Exactly! Only one class, and look at the impact!” Rapunzel’s grin becomes impossibly wider. Oh god. This is getting so eerie. “Anna says you’re _that_ good of a tutor, she likes you a lot!”

 _Okay, enough, Rapunzel,_ Anna glares at her friend through flushed cheeks. She needs to cut in before the situation can get any weirder. “Anyway, um. What brings you here, Elsa?”

Anna may be imagining things because her brain has gone haywire, but did Elsa just look at her _and then_ turn away for a split second, only to make eye contact once more? And the way Elsa’s tugging at her lower lip and appearing as though she’s… nervous? And those shoulders slightly rise up to her ears. It’s—she’s so cute. God, Anna might spontaneously combust if this goes on.

“I came to visit,” Elsa says quietly.

Anna is tempted to ask if she’s visiting her _,_ but that’s kind of too much, right?

“Mrs. LeClair has been asking me to do so for quite a while now, but I’ve been so busy, so I never had the chance,” she pauses to smile at the advisor. “I managed to find the time today, though.”

The brunette chuckles. “I’m just glad you finally came to visit. It’s been too long.” She places a hand on Elsa’s shoulder.

 _Aw, man._ Anna pouts. Mrs. LeClair and Elsa must be really friendly. She wonders how long it will be until she can be the one to put her hand on Elsa’s shoulder so naturally like that. Or, not necessarily on the shoulder, but just… being able to get physical? Wait a second, she did not intend to sound so pathetic and perverted. _Oh god,_ her face is getting so hot—she glances up to see that Rapunzel’s not looking her way. Good. But then she turns to the advisor and she’s—

_Oh no._

—she’s looking her way and s-s-she’s _smirking!_

“Say, Elsa,”

Anna swallows. Has the advisor ever sounded so menacing? She thought Mrs. LeClair was a sweetheart! The nicest teacher in Arendelle High School! Rumour has it, she’s the only woman in the world who can ever keep Coach Adam’s temper in check! So to see such a kind, gentle, and sweet woman grinning at her like this is, _ugh_ , it makes goosebumps appear all over her skin.

“Since you’re here,” Mrs. LeClair continues, but she’s looking at the redhead, “Why not stay for the game?”

Elsa blinks.

And Anna’s eyes widen.

“Yes, that’s an excellent idea!” Rapunzel jumps in, like it’s her cue to talk. Like the two have some previous pact and have planned this out _from the start…!_ “We can save you a seat. Our friends are really good at hogging the front row!” she finishes with a wink.

Mrs. LeClair smiles at Rapunzel, seemingly content with her reaction. “May I ask you to save a seat for myself?” her eyes shift towards Anna. “I would love to watch today’s game.”

“That’s no problem at all, Mrs. LeClair. If anyone wants to take your spot, we’ll tell them that Coach Adam will beat them up. Right, Anna?”

“Uh, um…” Other than being at a complete loss for words, Anna’s pretty sure that she’s experienced whiplash from the two’s conversation. Seriously. It played out like two professional tennis players, rallying the ball flawlessly with each other—each serve is returned with elegance, and each hit created a wonderful balance so that the momentum can be maintained. Anna has never seen such an expertly-scripted, well-coordinated act before—hell, she doesn’t even coordinate this well with any of her teammates! _God damn._

“I…” Elsa speaks up. Her voice is soft, but that’s probably why she catches everyone’s attention. “… Is it okay if I stayed to watch, Anna?” she asks, hands clasped together at her front.

 _Oh my god, YES,_ is what Anna wants to scream, but she has to, _needs_ to be calm about this and so she subtly pinches her thigh, grits her teeth, and— “I’d love to have you there, Elsa.”

The blonde blinks again, blue eyes twinkling beautifully as a small smile spreads across her pink cheeks. “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll be there.”

Honestly, Anna could have cried. But she pinches herself harder and just smiles.

“Alright ladies,” Mrs. LeClair clasps her hands together. “You best head to class; there are only a few more minutes before break ends. Elsa, perhaps you can go visit Mr. Matthias in the mean time? He talks about you quite a lot.”

 _Mr. Matthias as in the music teacher?_ Anna quirks a brow.

“Would that be appropriate? I’d hate to interrupt his class,” Elsa says.

“I am quite certain he has a free period right now.”

The blonde hesitates, looking at Anna and Rapunzel and then to the advisor. Appearing deep in thought, Elsa runs her fingers along her knuckles as she cradles her hands together. “Then… I guess I can do that.”

Anna sees the nervousness in Elsa and wants to ask, wants to make sure everything’s okay, and wants to be there for her, but. _Come on._

She is just her student.

“We’ll see you later then, Elsa?” Rapunzel speaks up, cutting through Anna’s train of thoughts.

And although Anna already knows the answer, she looks to the blonde with anticipation. Elsa seems to have noticed, because she doesn’t break eye contact with Anna. “Yes,” she says softly with a smile, “I’ll look forward to it.”

At that, Anna feels her heart leap. Literally. It’s like all the nerves and veins connecting to her heart has thrown the organ up in the air, let it do a nice little 360, and then caught it again. A very unorthodox analogy, but it is precisely how it feels. The heart leaping, that is.

“Then I’ll see you soon?” Anna’s voice is hopeful.

Elsa’s smile widens and she nods.

It’s strange. When she does that, Anna feels as though they are trapped in a bubble. A soothing, muted atmosphere that only the two of them seem to experience. Rapunzel, Mrs. LeClair, the students—they’re all white noises. Unessential. There’s no point fighting the grin that has already stretched from cheek to cheek, nor does she have the will to ignore how warm her face feels.

There isn’t a point, up until Rapunzel nudges at her side again and Anna is broken out of her trance. She doesn’t have time to frown in frustration at her friend for breaking her little moment because the bell has rung. Students are now scrambling in the hallway and somehow, it makes Anna hyper-aware of how rapidly her heart is beating.

“Alright, we’re off! I’ll be sure to save a spot for both of you. We usually take the seats next to the Arendelle players, so look for us there!” Rapunzel exclaims as she drags Anna away.

 _Damn it, Rapunzel._ On the one hand, Anna wants to be the one to tell them that, considering how it is her game they’re coming to watch, but on the other hand, she knows that her tongue is basically tied up in a knot right now and she can barely speak. The most she can do is to wave at the two as their figures disappear into the crowd.

“She’s so pretty,” Rapunzel suddenly says, releasing Anna so that she can walk on her own again.

“Right?!” The redhead might as well have caught the attention of everyone in the hallway for saying that so loudly. But she quickly covers her mouth with a hand. “I-I mean,” she lowers her voice. “Yes. I love her—hair. And, uh, eyes.”

“Mhmm.” The golden blonde just thins her lips into a line. Is she smiling or is she judging? A bit of both? It’s hard to tell. “In any case, you’re taking this surprisingly well,”

Anna stops her tracks even though they’re already standing right at their classroom’s doorway. “Taking what well?”

Rapunzel chuckles. She lowers her voice, seeing how they’ve now stepped into the room. “The fact that Elsa’s coming to watch the game? To watch _you_ play?” She pauses to greet their English teacher, who is already writing notes on the whiteboard despite the classroom not being filled. “Good afternoon, Ms. Tremaine,” she says politely as she makes her way towards an empty seat.

But Anna just. She just stays still _._ She _stops._ Stops moving, stops breathing, stops functioning. Can it be possible that time itself has stopped? Because even with those eyes staring at her, with the students slowly filling up the class, with Ms. Tremaine glaring at her as if she’s murdered her cat, Anna feels _nothing._

Nothing except for the fact that she is going to play basketball. Not for Arendelle, but for Elsa. And that’s—that is _just—_

“Holy shit.”

A few giggles, and then Anna’s pretty sure she hears Ms. Tremaine yelling at her.

* * *

“So is it true?”

Anna grunts. She’s in the middle of tying up her ponytail so she can’t really look at her captain, but she responds nonetheless, “Is what true?”

Mulan chuckles. “That you lost it on Ms. Tremaine and swore at her?” She bends down to tighten her shoelace, “About time somebody did something; she’s so full of herself.”

“I didn’t _lose_ it,” Anna tries to explain to the captain. “I mean, I did swear, it just wasn’t directed at her. I was just. I don’t know, it’s messed up.”

“Uh huh,” Mulan smirks, not particularly interested in the backstory, but she does find Anna’s rambling to be entertaining. “More importantly,” she stands up and claps her hands to gather everyone’s attention, “Girls, we are _not_ losing to Northuldra again. I need everyone to be at their best. I don’t even care about getting into the regionals—I just want to beat them, you guys hear me?”

Several team members laugh at their captain’s statement. 

“What? I’m not wrong,” Mulan rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that how everyone feels?”

Yes, more or less. Actually, it’s more so _more_ than _less._ Mulan is right. Losing by one point at the literal last second is the most heartbreaking feeling an athlete can ever experience. They were leading by so much in the beginning too; it’s a matter of endurance was what Coach Adam told them last year. Anna gets quite choked about it from time to time. But this year—no, not this year. They’ve worked hard and honed their strength, overcome their weaknesses (maybe?), and so they’re going to do better, damn it. 

But then, Anna can’t find it in herself to feel motivated as the captain rants on. Sure, she’s not exactly the most level-headed person, but she often feels ready to do anything. So to feel so empty and unenthusiastic about such an important game is a bit concerning. Not that she has to let anyone know, though.

Even when the time comes for the team to finally step out on the court, to hear the loud cheers from the school, to see that practically the entire gymnasium is filled, Anna just feels… ‘alright’? That’s probably the best way to describe it. Her blood isn’t pumping, she feels kind of numb, and there’s this distinct void in her chest. Like she’s missing something. 

“Hey, Anna!” 

The sound of Rapunzel’s voice snaps her out of her senses. She almost gets a ball thrown in her face, but she catches it in time and tosses it back to Mulan. They’re in the middle of warm-up, so she really shouldn’t get distracted, but Anna can’t help it. She looks to the direction of her friend and sees that she has, as promised, hogged up the front row. Kind of the equivalent of courtside seats, but less extravagant, of course. Anna squints and sees that Elsa and Mrs. LeClair are sitting next to her group of friends, and her instinct is to wave—

“Ow!”

“Oh my god, Anna,” Mulan rushes to her. “Are you okay?”

So the ball _did_ hit her this time because she wasn’t paying attention. This one’s on her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she says as she rubs her forehead. “Got distracted.”

“I mean, yeah, I know.” Mulan rests her hands on her hips as she glares at Rapunzel. The golden-blonde, in turn, just sticks out her tongue, feigning innocence. “As long as you don’t pull this nonsense during the game, I’m fine with it. Who’s that girl next to Mrs. LeClair, by the way? A friend of Rapunzel’s?”

Anna picks up the ball at her feet and starts dribbling it from one hand to another, doing crossovers every now and then just to keep her hands occupied. God knows how Coach Adam hates it when they’re not moving during warm-ups. “Elsa,” she finally answers.

“Who?” 

The redhead gestures at the end line on the court, telling the captain wordlessly to get back to her position so that they can at least pretend that they’re doing something. “My math tutor.”

Mulan raises a brow, giving her this _but-you-scored-really-high-on-the-test-even-though-your-calculator-died_ look, to which Anna just shakes her head and tosses the ball at the other girl. She’s tired of explaining. 

And Mulan seems to understand this, so she just shrugs and returns the ball. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, she is.” Anna responds quietly, almost like she’s saying it to herself.

The captain grins. In the same way Rapunzel, Mrs. LeClair, and her freaking parents did. 

_Oh god._ Anna clears her throat. She tosses the ball at Mulan, but the latter is unrelenting. “Better play well to impress her, Anna,” she says, throwing it back at the redhead. 

Anna catches the ball, gasps, and is fully prepared to retort, but the buzzer sounds and they head over to Coach Adam to huddle and go over last minute plan changes. The usual ‘ _one, two, three, let’s go, Arendelle!’_ ensues; Anna hears a similar chant from the Northuldra side and before she knows it, she’s already standing in the court, right in front of her opponent—a girl with brownish hair and dark eyes and tanned skin. If Anna remembers, her name is really weird. Honey… something? Whatever. Nattura, number thirty-seven. This girl was her defender last year as well, and Anna is not about to lose to the same team or person again. 

She tugs at the single elbow guard at on her left hand out of habit, loosening the sleeve a little and bends her knees, eyeing the other girl with a readiness she isn’t sure she can commit to, and the whistle blows.

Their team gains possession at jump ball; Anna quickly gets to position, running straight towards the three-point line. Jane Porter, the small forward, passes the ball to Mulan, who then pushes through her defender to make a shot close to the free-throw line. It goes right in—as expected from the captain, the point guard herself—and the crowd begins to cheer. 

They return to their side for defence, but they barely have time to celebrate Mulan's first points, because Anna’s defender, Thirty-Seven _,_ is already running—no, _charging_ towards them. Anna takes her cue and spreads her arms, guarding the girl as closely as possible but then Thirty-Seven does a little hesitation— _Anna nearly trips at that_ —stops in her place, jumps, shoots, and a three-pointer. 

Her jaw hangs loose; Anna turns to the girl whom _she swears_ smirked at her before giving her own teammates high-fives. 

“Anna!” Mulan calls. The redhead snaps her head at the captain. She can tell that she isn’t happy. “Come on!” She points out two fingers, signally at Anna to prepare for one of their plays. In the background, Coach Adam yells the same number.

Anna nods. She makes her way back to the three-point line, coming into contact again with Thirty-Seven. Man, this girl is relentless; Anna needs to take her for a loop. She tries running back and forth to lose the girl’s defense, but she sticks to the redhead like a magnet. Anna sees Mulan coming her way, but she just can’t shake Thirty-Seven off…! 

Seeing no opening, Mulan jumps to take a shot. The ball swirls around the rim but it falls out; Jane manages to catch the rebound and then finally, _finally,_ Anna slips past Thirty-Seven and retrieves Jane’s pass. She takes a shot near the side-line, aiming for a three-pointer of her own, but it bounces right off the rim. And— _ugh,_ does Thirty-Seven know how to teleport or something?! She’s taken the rebound and has already made her way past half-court, has done a layup, _and_ she has scored. What the hell?

“Eriksen!” Coach Adam calls from the bench, “Get on with the defense! What are you doing?!”

 _Ooh boy,_ he sounds pissed. Well, Anna is quite agitated herself. Seriously. Thirty-Seven has to be on drugs. How can she be so quick? Admittedly, Anna isn’t really the best player around, but she prides herself on being fast. So to get beaten at her own game is quite frustrating. Anna shakes her head as an attempt to get her mind back in one piece. 

“Come on, Anna! You got this!” 

… but then she hears her friends cheering for her in the background and she can’t help but to take a glance. They’re all looking her way, calling out to her with a spark that she currently lacks. This missing drive becomes more apparent when she makes eye contact with Elsa, who is looking at her with concern. 

Well, Anna sure as hell wasn’t prepared to be such a disappointment today. Like, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be at her A-game today, but to do this badly and to do so in front of Elsa? That’s kind of... _man._ How embarrassing.

She heaves another sigh and returns to the play.

* * *

Come half-time, Arendelle is behind by sixteen points, standing at twenty-four to forty. 

In Anna’s defense, it’s not completely her fault. The Northuldrans are playing so aggressively, and the Arendellians only managed to score several points during the second quarter. It’s partly because the Northuldra MVP, freaking Thirty-Seven, has been subbed out, giving their team somewhat of a leeway to catch up. Whatever the case, Coach Adam is certain that she’s coming back for the final half.

“Which is why,” the coach directs his words towards Anna, “I need you to focus, Eriksen,” he states. “I need my shooting guard and her three-pointers. You’ve been missing every attempt.”

“Yes coach, I know. I’m sorry,” she responds quickly.

“I don’t need your apology. I need you to perform properly _,_ do you understand me?”

Anna nods, “Yes, coach, I understand.”

The coach gives her one more discerning look before moving on to his next instructions. “Okay, now Porter…”

Anna swears she’s listening. She really, _really_ doesn’t want to let her teammates down—this is the game that secures their place in the regionals, after all, but _damn._ Anna’s eyes can’t help but to wander.

Her friends are talking amongst themselves—no surprise there. What’s Elsa up to, then? Hopefully, this game isn’t so disappointing that it would bore her. Mrs. LeClair has seemingly gone off somewhere, so the blonde is kind of all by herself. _Damn it, Rapunzel,_ Anna wants to scream, _you help me take care of Elsa! Include her in whatever mundane stuff you guys are talking about! Don’t just leave her alone!_ But then, like telepathy, almost as if she can sense it, Elsa looks up and catches her gaze. Their eyes clash again and Anna’s breath hitches.

Elsa gives her a warm smile. She waves gently, mouthing a ‘ _good luck’_ at her.

In response, Anna just… well, truth be told, she can’t really respond. Doesn’t have it in her to respond. That heart leaping analogy is on her mind again; she wants to twirl around and do a little happy dance, and she has the biggest urge to give the blonde a cheesy thumb’s up.

But.

She manages to keep her cool and simply smiles back.

The buzzer sounds, and the cheerleaders leave the court. Anna assumes her position, standing off with Thirty-Seven once again. So coach was right; she is back in action, which means Arendelle isn’t going to have any more flexibility—they’re going to have to play for real.

At jump ball, Northuldra gets possession. Anna rushes towards Thirty-Seven, guarding her with quite literally her life because _so help her,_ this girl is _not_ getting another opportunity to shoot a three-pointer. But Thirty-Seven’s had the time to sit out during second quarter and Anna hasn’t. She’s going to have to give it her all to keep up with this girl.

Fortunately, Arendelle gets the rebound. The team scrambles to get back on the other side, with Anna zipping past both her opponents and teammates to lose Thirty-Seven. She finds herself an open spot at the corner of the court, near the end and sideline, gestures at her teammate to pass her the ball.

“Cross! Cross!” Their coach shouts in the background, setting them up for another play. Anna rushes to the edge of the three-point line and making sure that Thirty-Seven is still struggling to get to her, she waves to get her teammate’s attention. The ball is passed to Jane, then Mulan, who feigns a shot, but in actuality passes it to Anna. The ball is thrown a bit too high— _damn it, Mulan—_ if Anna doesn’t jump, it’ll go out of bounds. So she bends her knees and prepares to make it as high as she can, but then, out of nowhere, Anna sees at the corner of her eyes that _fucking_ Thirty-Seven is charging towards her.

_How the f—_

It’s too late. She’s in midair, there’s no way she can dodge this; Thirty-Seven rams right into her. Anna’s body is tackled off the court, but she’s surprisingly dexterous and so she spins (midair—it’s all very dramatic) to land a bit more elegantly before she crashes into the people sitting at courtside. But then.

Then.

_Oh, nonononono—_

She gasps.

_Elsa._

She’s crashing into _Elsa!_

Seriously?! Of all people!

Anna’s mind goes into overdrive. It’s like everything’s in slow motion. She sees the deer-in-the-headlights expression on the blonde and acts immediately. Elsa is most likely going to be thrown backwards at the force. And so, just as she is close enough, Anna wraps her arms around Elsa’s head to protect her from the impact. She ensures that her elbow is going to be where Elsa’s neck is and that her hand is cradling the back of the blonde’s head. She ends up right on top of Elsa, who would most definitely have hurt her neck or something from taking a fall like that, but Anna prays that she has softened the landing somehow.

She can barely register the pain (if there is any at all) and there’s already whistle blowing and yelling in the background. The loudest of most is from her coach, of course. Followed by Mulan and the rest of her teammates, along with the crowd, which appears to be booing.

But she has more important matters at hand.

“Are you okay?” Anna asks, breathless, hovering right above Elsa. She draws back, standing up effortlessly as she pulls the blonde up with care. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Elsa, clearly winded, blinks several times to gather herself before answering. “I… I’m fine,” she says, catching her breath. “Are _you_ okay?” Elsa questions back, taking Anna’s hands into her own. She observes Anna’s elbow and looks slightly relieved to find that she’s wearing an arm guard.

The corners of Anna’s lips arch up. She takes hold onto Elsa’s hands and looks up at the taller girl, smiling as reassuringly as possible. “I’m okay,” she says, soft enough so that only Elsa would hear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she’s pretty sure she’ll get some bruises on her knee later, but for now, “I’m okay.”

Elsa returns Anna’s smile with one of her own—only, it looks kind of apologetic.

But Anna wants to tell her that she’s done nothing wrong. What _is_ wrong is Thirty-Seven and her aggressive play. Man, Anna’s got some shit to deal with. Seeing how Elsa’s chair has been replaced, she guides the blonde back to her seat, making sure that she’s sitting alright before returning to the court.

She gives Elsa one last smile, fixes her ponytail, and replaces the sweet smile with a stern expression when she walks up to Thirty-Seven. The players are in the midst of an argument, with the referees trying to break them apart. Jeez, they’re still at it? Time sure stood still when she was interacting with Elsa just now. Whatever the case—

“Hey, mind controlling your speed a bit better?” Anna spouts at Thirty-Seven. “You could’ve hurt someone.”

The brunette rolls her eyes. As if it didn’t matter to her.

As if hurting Elsa didn’t matter.

_Elsa._

Anna gnaws at her lower lip, furrowing her brows in anger. She turns to see if Elsa is still okay, and seeing how her friends and Mrs. LeClair are already at it, Anna is able to breathe a bit more easily. 

_Okay then._

If Thirty-Seven thinks hurting Elsa isn’t something severe, then _fine._

The whistle blows.

_Fine._

Anna cracks the knuckles of her right hand with just her thumb, without breaking eye contact with Thirty-Seven.

Arendelle isn’t given a foul shot, believe it or not, but they do have possession of the ball. Anna stands behind the sideline and seeks out Mulan; she passes it to the captain when she’s still trying to find an opening but manages to catch it. Anna then runs to the other end of the court, knowing that Mulan is following her movements. She’s so quick this time that Thirty-Seven actually loses her. She retrieves the ball from Mulan and shoots, successfully scoring three points from the side of the hoop.

The crowd cheers loudly, Anna gets a few high-fives and fist bumps from her teammates and they prepare for defense. _Of course_ it’s Thirty-Freaking-Seven coming at her again. _God._ Is she the only capable one around? Anna does an eye-roll of her own and keeps guard. Thirty-Seven turns so that her back is against Anna when they come in contact. The redhead spreads her arms wide and bends low to keep her stance; she’s not going to let this girl get past her.

Struggling to find an opening, Thirty-Seven tries to do a spin crossover; she fails though, as Anna’s guarding her much too tightly and the ball slips out of her grip. Anna acts right away; she takes possession and runs down the court, dribbling methodically and does a reverse layup because… well, _just because._

The cheers become wilder. Anna sees several people actually standing up. As she makes her way back to her side of the court, she shoots a glance at where her friends are sitting. They’re cheering, of course, and Elsa is clapping her hands delicately just below her chin—it’s so freaking adorable. How she’s watching with such excitement but is holding it in. Like she wants to stand and cheer like the rest of the people, but it isn’t in her to be loud. It’s what makes Elsa so special, so intriguing.

Their eyes clash again, and Anna sees happiness personified when Elsa smiles. It radiates the entire gymnasium, and it fills Anna with so much joy. So in that tiny fraction of a second, when their eyes are still connected, she sends the blonde a wink.

Before she can see Elsa’s response, however, the Northuldrans are headed their way, coming back in full offense.

Anna smirks and prepares herself, now facing them with a newfound confidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if only writing a basketball game were as easy as playing/watching it...
> 
> thank you all for the feedback so far! it's amazing how positive the response has been. I'll be sure to keep up with the quality/updates! stay safe, everyone :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Anna, do you mind lending me your shampoo?” Mulan asks as she digs through her duffle bag, “I don’t think I’ve brought mine.”

The redhead turns off her blow dryer and reaches into her own bag, “Yep.” She tosses the bottle over to the captain. “Just give it back to me on Monday—I have to run.”

“Oh, right,” a corner of Mulan’s lips arches upwards. “Math _tutor_.”

“… I don’t like how you enunciated the ‘tutor’ part.”

“Well,” the captain feigns innocence and fiddles with the bottle cap, “She did more than what a tutor should. I mean, she certainly changed the game for us. For _you._ ”

She chokes on her own spit. Anna’s face turns crimson in an instant—it’s all really quite comedic if it didn’t make her head spin so much. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Come on, Anna,” Mulan crosses her arms, looking like she’s enjoying herself way too much. “The way you went completely beast mode when Thirty-Seven tackled you over her? Man, have I ever seen you angrier. I was almost positive you were going to punch her in the face when she didn’t apologize.”

“Hey, hurting players is one thing, but what she did could’ve…” the more she talks, the more she finds it pointless to explain. Seriously. Why does she explain? Is there any point in doing so? She was just doing the right thing, was she not? “Look. The main point is we’ve won. We’ve beaten the Northuldrans. We’re in the regionals!”

“Mhmm,” Mulan just nods, aloof to Anna’s supposedly grand statement.

“Come on!” Anna grunts. “Why aren’t you more psyched about this?”

“Like I said, I don’t care about the regionals. I just want to beat them. Now that we have, everything’s just meh.”

“Wow, that’s the most inspiring speech to have ever come from the most inspiring captain.” She deadpans. The sarcasm layered in her voice makes said captain glare, but the redhead pays no mind. It’s a Mulan thing to be nonchalant about competition, despite being appointed captain. “Alright, I’m heading home. Don’t use all of it, I really like this scent!” Anna points to the shampoo bottle.

Mulan gives her a lackadaisical shrug and makes her way into a shower stall. Whatever is on her mind makes Anna a little self-conscious, but she’ll deal with this another day. There’s only like—what? She glances at the time on her phone—thirty more minutes until her lesson with Elsa and she’s still in the change room.

Speaking of.

She remembers that Elsa’s still out in the gymnasium, waiting for her. How awkward would it be if Elsa were sitting out there, all alone, with nothing to do? Or if she’s surrounded by a group of boys, trying to take advantage on her? She is really, _really_ attractive, after all. _Oh god,_ the thought of it makes her nervous. Which is why Anna made sure to be as quick as possible in the shower (also because she can’t be smelling of sweat during her lesson. Have to be at her best in front of Elsa!). Anna runs her fingers through her still-damp hair and decides against tying it up. She takes a deep breath, fixes the strap of her duffle bag, and pushes through the door.

Most of the bleachers have been cleared; there are still a few groups sitting here and there, but the court is largely empty. Anna spots some people cluttered at where Elsa and her friends sat, which naturally draws her towards them. When she gets close enough, she sees that it’s just her friends, Coach Adam, and Mrs. LeClair. And Elsa.

Oh, they’re gathered around Elsa.

“What’s going on?”

Her question prompts everyone to look her way. It’s kind of startling, to say the least.

“Anna, you’re finally done,” Rapunzel speaks up. She’s sitting next to Elsa (a bit too close in Anna’s humble opinion), looking all eager and excited—like she’s a kindergartener listening to her teacher telling stories or something. But that’s just how Rapunzel is. Always enthusiastic about the most mundane things.

Except Elsa isn’t mundane. She is anything _but._

“We were just talking about you,” her friend continues.

“Yeah, about how you changed the game!” Merida says, her thick Scottish accent accompanied by her exaggerated hand motions keeping everyone entertained. “You just went _CRASH_ into Elsa and then stood like a real boss and then _WOOSH!_ Beat the living crap out of that Thirty-Seven girl. _And_ you won by twenty points! How insane is that?”

Anna can barely comprehend the unnecessary sound effects, but she giggles. “First of all, I didn’t beat the crap out of anyone. Also, it wasn’t all me. Mulan assisted like… how many times? I mean, if it weren’t for her, I never could have made all those shots,” she trails off, teal eyes wandering to meet Elsa, who is smiling so wonderfully at her. The blonde is listening with an unprecedented concentration—like Anna has her complete focus and that nothing else surrounding them exists.

Or, like. Anna’s just crazy. This is her head playing tricks on her. Elsa is just being polite. She probably listens to everyone with an equal amount of attention. Because she’s nice.

“Great job today, Eriksen,” Coach Adam cuts through her train of thoughts. His praises always come out in a weirdly rehearsed manner, so Anna can never tell if she actually has done a good job.

Except for today. Today, she knows that she has done a good job. “Thanks, coach,” she says. “It’s probably because I never skipped a single practice.”

Her coach shakes his head but is giving her a gentle smile. “You were underperforming during the first half, but then you did redeem yourself, so I’m not going to be too harsh on you.”

“What matters most,” Mrs. LeClair speaks up, placing a hand on her husband’s forearm, “Is that Arendelle is in the regionals. Congratulations, Anna. You did a great job today.”

Anna feels her cheeks warming up. It’s not like she doesn’t do well with compliments (in fact, she loves them—feeds on them, at times), but it’s a bit hard to swallow all this attention from so many people. She tugs at the ends of her hair and thinks it’s best to get out of here before she explodes from blushing.

“Thank you, Mrs. LeClair. I, um,” she swallows, glancing up to catch Elsa’s curious gaze. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta be somewhere.”

“Riiiiight” Rapunzel says, dragging on the word for dramatic effect. She looks between Anna and Elsa. “You guys have a _thing_.”

Anna glares.

But then Mrs. LeClair, catching on to the golden-blonde who is batting her eyelashes so _innocently,_ develops a sly grin of her own. It makes a shiver run down Anna’s spine, but it’s not like she can voice it out. “Yes, you two best get going. Don’t let us keep you,” the advisor says.

“ _Have fun_ , Anna!” Merida and the rest of her friends say not just in unison, but in a teasingly mischievous tone that makes the little hairs on the back of Anna’s neck stand up.

Which, obviously, makes her heart pound a bit harder with all the unspoken implications.

Despite all this, such as having cheeks as red as tomatoes and the need to scream at these people for making things so awkward, Anna keeps a poker face. _No,_ she will not crack under pressure. At least, not right now. She straightens her posture and turns to Elsa. “So, erm, ready to go?”

Elsa, on her part, continues to smile and nods. “Anytime,” she stands up, hesitates for a second, and walks up to Anna’s side. “It’s was nice to meet you all,” she says to Anna’s friends, and then she turns to the two teachers. “Thank you for today, Mr. LeClair, Mrs. LeClair.”

The advisor gives the blonde a smile of her own. “Do visit again, Elsa. I really miss having you around.”

“I will,” Elsa says.

“Bye, Elsa!” Rapunzel waves. “See you again soon!”

It’s weird how even though she is speaking to Elsa, Anna feels like the words are directed to her.

Elsa gives everyone a final goodbye and walks alongside the redhead, out of the gymnasium. The hallways are practically empty given what time it is, but the occasional student who passes by would (and Anna knows this for a fact) give Elsa a double-take. Honestly, who wouldn’t? Anna herself fights the urge to look at the girl beside her. She does notice that Elsa isn’t wearing heels today, so she only stands about three inches taller. It literally is the perfect height. Not just for the average female, but she’s thinking more along the terms of having the shoulder height for Anna to lean her head against, or for a cuddle, or— _wait, what?_

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I parked a few blocks away from the school,” Elsa says. “I couldn’t find anywhere closer.”

Anna blinks. They’ve reached the main entrance of the building. The sky has darkened to a comfortable orange hue, and the autumn chill reminds Anna of how little she’s wearing. Just the signature purple Arendelle High hoodie, leggings, and a pair of Converse. Jeez. She crosses her arms, clenching her teeth together so that they wouldn’t clatter. Why does she always have that ‘pack light’ mentality? Is it that much work to bring a jacket? She can already hear her mother lecturing her about not wearing enough. _Oh,_ wait, Elsa’s talking to her. What did she say again? She quickly turns to the blonde, “Hm?”

In response, Elsa giggles, covering her mouth with the knuckle of her forefinger. She then removes the blue scarf around her neck and loops it around Anna, tying a neat little bow at the ends.

Anna remains still. Her throat is dry and her lips part slightly. Like she wants to say something but her mind has drawn a blank. Can she be blamed, though? All she can see, hear, smell— _lavender—_ at the moment is Elsa. The thick, cotton light blue scarf wrapped around her neck hides the lower half of her face, and she prays that it’s hiding her flushed cheeks as well.

“Is this warm enough?” Elsa asks, fixing the scarf so that it’d remain snug on the redhead.

“I—” Anna swallows the lump down her throat. She looks up at the older girl, _sees_ in detail of Elsa’s face. The faint dusting of freckles that scatter across her nose like stars; the many shades of blue in her eyes, the thick eyelashes, and Anna can’t _breathe._

Elsa’s not real. She’s convinced.

“Anna?”

She doesn’t look away. Some alien, magnetic force prevents her from doing so. And it’s a good thing she doesn’t, because for every millisecond she spends looking at Elsa, Anna discovers something new. Like how light softly accentuates her translucent skin, and how that shimmering purple eyeshadow compliments her features so well. It’s uncanny. She’s – Elsa is— "You…”

Elsa gives her a head tilt.

Oh no. She’s started the sentence. She needs to finish. _Don’t chicken out now, Anna_.

“… were probably really popular back in high school.”

 _Oh my god._ Dumb. So dumb. What a stupidly dumb thing to say—

But Elsa breathes out with amusement. The air isn’t cold enough for her breath to be seen, yet Anna thinks it might as well be as her vision is blurred. Like her eyes are clouded. Smoke in her eyes. It feels like she’s high on drugs. Not that she’s ever taken drugs. God no. Her parents would kill her.

“On the contrary,” Elsa says, thin brows creased together in what appears to be a tinge of regret. “No. People didn’t like talking to me. Probably because I look angry all the time. I’ve been told that I have a very aggressive RBF.”

“What!” Anna spurts, “You do _not_ have an RBF!”

Yeah! What the hell were those people thinking? Have they ever looked at Elsa up close? Have they _seen_ how meticulously her features are laid out? Every hair, every skin pore, every tiny cell in this girl’s body is likely crafted with patience, with skill, with precision! Elsa is… she’s the product of alchemy. Yes, that’s what it is. Elsa is a form of ancient magic, of supernatural elemental, which is exactly why Anna is so drawn to her. Not just attracted, but _drawn._ Tethered.

And it angers her how _those people_ didn’t see what Anna sees!

“Your smile is, like, the prettiest thing I’ve seen! _You’re_ the prettiest thing—I mean…” oh shit _,_ she did _not._ But, _no, don’t give up!_ Anna presses on, “… person.”

Elsa’s eyelids flutter.

Anna swallows. “You’re, um. You don’t have an RBF… is my point.”

Elsa chuckles. “Thank you, Anna.” Her gaze shifts to the corner—a timid response—but this charming smile graces her lips. Like she’s shy and simultaneously flattered but isn’t willing to show it. “We should get going before you catch a cold.” She looks to the sky. “And it’s getting quite late.” 

Still having the intention to hold a grand crusade to defend this girl with her life, Anna reluctantly catches on. “Yeah, um. I guess I’ll see you back at home, then?” She hears herself stutter, obviously not from the cold.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ll just, um. Bus home. And you can…”

“Oh, Anna,” Elsa laughs. “Didn’t you hear me?”

_No. I couldn’t._

“Or, it was my fault,” the blonde says. “I didn’t actually mention it. But I’ll drive you! You didn’t think I’d just let you go home on your own when I drove, would you?”

“Well, I—” actually, Anna simply didn’t think this through. “I’m so used to taking the bus home, I just kinda… I’m just stupid.”

Another giggle. “No, you’re not. Come on, this way.”

Anna follows her, clutching onto the strap of her bag at her chest with one hand and the scarf at her neck with another.

* * *

Anna admittedly does not know much about cars, but when she sees the Mercedes Benz logo and the glaring AMG emblem at the back of Elsa’s deep blue coupe, she knows that this is a nice ride.

“It’s a gift from my grandfather,” Elsa explains when Anna asks. The older girl shifts in her seat, and she looks so uneasy. There also isn’t much enthusiasm in her voice either, so maybe Elsa doesn’t want to flaunt about it? Or she’s tired of people telling her the same thing. She probably has friends who envy her. Whatever the case, Anna knows when to _not_ dwell on a conversation where the other party feels no interest engaging in it.

Though, that raises a lot of questions.

Like, why doesn’t Elsa like the car? Or, could the lack of enthusiasm come from the topic of her grandfather? What’s her family like? They’re probably quite well-off, considering the car, right? If so, why does Elsa even need to work? The questions are seemingly endless, but Anna bites her tongue. She really doesn’t want to make Elsa feel uncomfortable.

The ride is relatively uneventful. Classical piano music that Anna recognizes but can’t name plays on the radio, and she nearly falls asleep from the atmosphere alone. Not because of the music, but because Elsa is a very safe driver. No, seriously. The ride home is less than fifteen minutes, Anna’s not particularly tired or anything, but Elsa’s driving is able to make her doze off. She doesn’t even do this in her parents’ car.

They arrive, and Elsa pulls into the driveway. Anna thanks Elsa for driving her, and she may be imagining it, but did the blonde wince when she exit her car?

“Mom?” Anna unlocks the door, letting Elsa in first. “I’m home.”

No answer. It’s Friday and six in the evening. Where can she be? Her dad’s probably fighting traffic on the way home from work, but her mom usually would be making dinner at this point.

“Here, Elsa,” Anna says, grabbing the same pair of bunny slippers for the taller girl. “I’m going to see where my mom is and get us something to drink. Do you have any preference?”

“Oh, no,” Elsa shakes her head. “Please, anything will be fine.”

“Okay,” Anna nods. “You can head upstairs first. I’ll be right there.”

She guides Elsa to the stairs and then makes her way towards the kitchen. The lights are off and nothing’s cooking. Anna tilts her head in confusion. She’s about to text her mother when she sees that the woman has beat her to it.

_‘Anna, I’m going to be running a bit late tonight. I forgot to pick up some files at the office.’_

Well, then. That explains everything. It’s tough being a housewife-slash-lawyer, she’ll give her mother that. Anna grabs two juice boxes from the fridge and is about to bolt upstairs, but she passes by a mirror and catches a reflection of herself. It’s an instinct. Anna starts fixing her hair, brushing the copper bangs out of her eyes. But then her hand wanders to the scarf that is still wrapped around her neck.

She grips onto the cotton material lightly, breathing in a little. The same, faint, lavender scent. It’s so soothing. Anna wants to bury herself into the scarf, but a voice in her head tells her that _no, it’s creepy as hell!_ So she shakes herself back to her senses. Anna heads up the stairs and sees that the lights in her room are turned on. She knocks, letting Elsa know that she’s entering.

“Hi, sorry that took so long. You okay with—” Anna glances at the juice box, “—strawberry kiwi?”

Elsa gives the redhead her trademark smile. “Anything is fine. Thank you.”

Anna places the two juice boxes onto the table and drops her bag onto the ground. Then, just as she’s about to remove the scarf around her neck, Anna feels a pang of sadness. _Man,_ she’s grown so attached to this. The colour, the warmth, the _scent._ But it’s not hers. She can’t be such a child about it. Sighing, she tugs onto the scarf, finally letting it slip off her neck. The next thing she should do is to give it back to its owner, but when Anna sees said owner sitting eerily upright, grimacing like she’s in pain, she instinctively tosses the scarf onto her bed and rushes to Elsa’s side.

“Elsa?” Anna says, kneeling next to the blonde. “Is everything okay?” She places a hand on her back.

Elsa flinches away from her touch, but she recovers quickly and shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“I… don’t think so,” Anna says. She presses her hand on Elsa’s back again, this time higher, closer to neck. “Does it hurt here?”

“No, I… I don’t know.”

Anna swallows. Guilt simmers in the pit of her stomach. “I’m so sorry, if I hadn’t—”

“It’s not your fault,” Elsa says right away, as if to assure Anna. “You already did your best to catch me, all things considered.”

She’s still smiling so brightly, but the redhead can see the pain behind her expression. She swallows, “Elsa, where does it hurt?”

The blonde shakes her head. “It’s okay, I’ll get this looked at later. We should get started—”

“I’ve been told,” Anna interrupts, once again pressing her hand on the span of Elsa’s back, “… that back pains need to checked up on as soon as possible. Otherwise the consequences can be quite severe. The least I can do right now is see where you’re hurt,” she moves lower, making sure to apply pressure on Elsa’s spine.

The blonde, in the mean time, gives in. She bites onto her lower lip with eyes clenched shut.

“Sorry,” Anna says. “Does it hurt here?”

“A bit…” Elsa whimpers.

“Okay. What about here?” She presses onto the small of the blonde’s back.

Elsa shakes her head. “No, nothing there.”

 _Good,_ her lower back is okay, as far as Anna, a seventeen-year-old high school student who-is-most-certainly-not-a-doctor, can tell. She moves her hand up higher and presses onto Elsa’s shoulder blades.

The blonde flinches again, this time actually letting out a tiny squeak. The sound makes Anna jump, pull her hand away in a split second, and it gets her head pounding. “It hurts here, doesn’t it?” she asks, carefully placing her palm onto the same area.

Elsa nods. “It kind of aches. I think I landed on the metal bar part of the chair or something. But I can deal with it later, Anna. We should probably get on with the lesson.”

Anna sighs. “You should be more concerned about yourself, Elsa.” She stands and straightens her hoodie. “It’s probably a bruise. I’ll get you an icepack. _Then_ we can get started, okay?”

Reluctantly, Elsa gives in. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take her long to grab one from the freezer. Anna hurts herself every now and then during her games, so her mother usually has them prepared. She grabs a fresh hand towel from the washroom, wraps it around the icepack, and heads back into her room. 

“Here, Elsa. Sit up straight and just sandwich this between your back and the seat—that’ll hold it in place,” Anna instructs. It’s probably better if she applied direct contact with the icepack, but Anna’s not about to make Elsa take off her clothes or anything. That’s too soon.

Wait, too soon? _For what?_

Elsa lets out a soft groan, clenching her eyes shut as she leans back. “Thank you, Anna. I’m so sorry for the trouble.”

Anna just shakes her head. “What are you apologizing for? I was the one who crashed into you. If it weren’t for me—well, if it weren’t for that girl, you’d be alright.”

The blonde exhales, giving the redhead a sympathetic look. “She hit you pretty hard, too,” Elsa eyes Anna cautiously. “Are you hurt anywhere? I barely felt your weight when you landed on me. You must’ve caught yourself on your knees somehow.”

Anna grins, touched that the blonde is so attentive. “Oh, I’m fine. I fall over all the time, so it’s really nothing.” She sits down on her chair and crosses her legs, turning on her laptop.

But a little while passes and she can’t help but to notice at the corner of her eyes that Elsa’s… what is she doing? Is she staring? At her? At Anna? Is there something on her face? Did she say something weird _again_? Oh man, it’s getting her so self-conscious. She swallows the lump down her throat, trying her utter best to distract herself with the start-up page. The loading bar is really interesting. Yes. _Don’t look._ Count the tiny pixels on the screen. _Don’t look._ Type in the password. _Don’t—_

Her eyes shift to the left. To Elsa.

Who— _she swears—_ for the tiniest fraction of a second, really _was_ looking at Anna but has quickly turned her gaze elsewhere. Pretending like she wasn’t.

Or maybe her brain’s just playing tricks on her, and this is all her imagination?

_Damn it, brain._

No, she’s not going to lose to the voice in her head. Anna breathes in and looks again, this time actually turning her head a little.

_Wow._

Blue is a nice colour. But.

Has anyone seen _Elsa’s-Eyes-Blue_? Anna doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe the sight, the pure perplexity of the picture. The shade mostly reminds her of a summer sky. Perhaps the ice in the glaciers. Very contradicting. It’s warm, but it’s cold. A blue that is lustrous, clean, crisp, refined.

She’s mesmerized. She can’t look away.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

 _Shit._ Anna panics. Did she just say that out loud? She sucks in a deep breath, is about to apologize, but then—

“I’m sorry,” Elsa beats her to it.

_Huh?_

Wait, no. Wait a second. Anna didn’t say it. About the eyes. It wasn’t her. _Elsa_ was the one to make that comment. Which means— _what_? What the…? Genuinely, what the hell happened?!

“I’m sorry?” Anna barely chokes out.

“No, I—that probably freaked you out, didn’t it?”

Words hang at the back of Anna’s throat and she feels as though her tongue has been tied in a knot, “… I thought I—well, I mean,” _pull yourself together!_ She takes a deep breath and thinks to try _one more time._ “I was thinking the same thing.”

This time, Elsa’s eyes widen. Just a bit.

And then they’re looking at each other again. It’s so strange. When it happens, time seems to move differently. Gravity is but a distraction; space between them is enigmatic. It’s like the atmosphere shifted. Thickened. As if everything else is blurry. Weighted.

Much like the small, precious moments when they made eye contact on the basketball court.

It gives Anna the opportunity to realize that there is this distinct _thump, thump_ sound in her ears. She doesn’t need the annoying voice in her head to tell her that it’s her own heartbeat. Or the fact that it’s becoming louder. That is everything that she is conscious of.

“We should…” Anna’s throat is way too dry. She can’t even swallow.

“Yeah,” Elsa breaks the moment. She is the one to turn away, and Anna thinks—she _truly believes—_ that the blonde does not want to do so. Because her cheeks are flushed pink and the way she’s tugging onto her lower lip is. So. Hard—

“Let’s…”

—to look away from.

“… get started. Where did we leave off last time?” Elsa asks in a very, very soft voice.

But it oddly resounds in Anna’s eardrums. Chimes. Like when one walks into a cathedral and the tiniest of whispers would gently echo. On and on. The sheer reverence of the hushed sounds engraving into the walls of the structure. Marking their existence—something to remember forever.

_Holy hell._

That’s how she feels about Elsa.

“Anna?” The blonde calls, in that tender voice.

And Anna.

She smiles, shaking her head lightly, “Limits,” and opens up the correct tab on her laptop. “We were on limits.”

* * *

The rest of the lesson goes on without much excitement. Don’t get her wrong—it’s not boring or anything; as a matter of fact, this is the first time Anna’s experienced uneventfulness in the most comfortable way possible. There is the occasional laughter between the two when a joke about Weasel Town is brought up. Anna would become quite amused when Elsa struggles with the buttons on her new graphing calculator, and these are the small moments when she’s given a chance to glance at the blonde. Like when Elsa drinks from the juice box, Anna’s eyes would follow the transparent pink liquid as it travels up the straw that Elsa bites onto. Yes, Elsa is a straw-biter. Anna notices that Elsa’s actually a very tense person. The way she sits (probably because of the icepack behind her, yeah, but generally speaking, Elsa’s posture is very stiff), how she’s so reserved, quiet, _mysterious._

Anna finds that when she looks at the older girl, she is studying her. Like Elsa is a lost anthology, filled with untouched stories.

And she is so utterly, hopelessly lost in her.

“I’ll see you next Tuesday at four, then?” Elsa confirms with her at the entrance.

_Oh, how time flies when one is enjoying oneself._

Anna gives her a simple nod. “Yep. Same time as usual,” she makes a face and quickly adds, “Except for today, I guess.”

Elsa giggles.

Anna is about to open the door for her when she hears sounds coming from the other side. Are her parents home? Well, it is way past seven-thirty, so they’re actually quite late.

The door opens, and her mother is the one to enter first. “Ah, Elsa, Anna!” She beams. “Goodness, have you just finished the lesson?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Erik—” the blonde pauses when the woman gives her a look, “—um, Iduna.”

“Whew, I think we’ve ordered a bit too much,”

Anna sees her father walking in behind her mother, carrying two large plastic bags. “Hey, dad,” she calls. “What’d you got there?” Anna makes her way to him to help with the load.

“Your mom texted and told me that she doesn’t have time to cook. Asked if we could have takeout tonight, so I got us some sushi,” he pauses when he notices the blonde standing a few feet away.

Her mother may not be seeing this, but Anna totally is.

Like, what _._ Her father’s eyes just _bulge!_ As if he’s laid eyes on a goddess—which, truth be told, Anna has that experience _first-hand._ But… but…!

But nothing. Because her father quickly glances back at her, gives her a grin that twists into a sly smirk. And then his whole expression just turns smug. As if… as if he’s discovered some forbidden secret or whatever.

“So you are Elsa!” He literally tosses the two plastic bags to Anna (which are _really_ heavy, mind you. What the hell did they order? Ten party trays?!) and reaches out to the blonde to shake her hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope my daughter hasn’t been causing you trouble.”

Elsa, as charismatic as she is, takes the man’s hand and shakes it firmly. “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Eriksen,” she glances at the redhead. “Your daughter is wonderful.”

He chuckles, turning to his daughter to wriggle a brow before facing Elsa again. “Please, Agnarr is fine.”

Anna, being as confused as she is, barely has any time to understand what her father is signalling. He _never_ does what he just did. Moving his eyebrows like this. God, what a weirdo. She sees Elsa tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks becoming slightly pinker.

It’s not particularly warmer here or anything. What is happening? Did Anna miss something?

“Elsa, would you like to stay for dinner?” Anna’s mother suddenly asks as she removes her coat. “It’s really late, and I am certain you haven’t eaten, yet.”

 _Dinner with Elsa?!_ Anna sucks in a breath. She has to bite onto her gums to resist jumping in excitement.

“Oh, no, I really shouldn’t disturb your family any longer,” Elsa declines, shaking her head.

“Nonsense,” Agnarr laughs. “We’ve ordered plenty. You ought to stay and help us finish, young lady.”

 _Yeah!_ Anna’s mind screams. She is eyeing at the blonde with so much anticipation she might as well be saying it out loud. She wants her to stay. Wants to see if she struggles with using chopsticks as much as Anna does. Wants to see her chew. Wants to be with her just _a little longer—_

Her father’s words actually make Elsa giggle, but the blonde continues to shake her head. “I really can’t tonight. I have to hand in an assignment by midnight, and I haven’t done so yet.”

“Hm, you don’t seem like the procrastinating type.” Agnarr says.

“No, I…” Elsa worries her bottom lip. “I’ve done my part. It’s a group assignment, and I have to go over my groupmates’ work before we submit.”

“Ugh,” the man rolls his eyes, clearly for the dramatic effect. “I used to hate group projects. Being paired with slackers was the worst.”

“It sure is,” Elsa says. “In any case, I should get going. Anna’s had a long day, so I’m certain she’s starving by now.”

“No, I’m alright,” the redhead says a bit too quickly. _No, that’s not true._ Elsa’s right. She’s hungry as hell. Hasn’t had anything since lunch, save for that juice box during tutor—but that was just a drink. Honestly speaking, she could devour a single deluxe party tray on her own right now.

The blonde gives her a wary look, but immediately drops it to face the adults again. “Thank you for the offer. Perhaps we could dine together another time?”

“I would love nothing more!” Iduna chimes in. “When it happens, I’ll be sure to make a proper meal.”

“My wife is an excellent cook,” Agnarr adds. “You will definitely enjoy it.”

Anna bobs her head, agreeing in silence. _Yeah,_ her mother’s cooking isn’t bad.

With that, final goodbyes are exchanged, and Elsa is out of the door. But it suddenly occurs to her—Anna gasps, tosses the plastic bags back to her father and steps out of the door, “Elsa!”

The older girl spins around, blue eyes wide and alert.

 _Oh,_ she didn’t mean to make it sound so urgent. But. Well. It _is_ quite important, “Don’t forget to get your back checked up, okay?”

At that, Elsa’s expression softens. She clutches a hand at her scarf, pulling it up higher, all the way up to her nose and nods. “I will,” she says. Their gaze connects. Another comfortable silence. And Elsa speaks up again, “Goodnight, Anna.”

Elsa’s voice is so quiet, so soothing, it has the ability to make Anna’s heart do weird things. Such as skipping a beat. Anna resists the urge to place a hand on her chest. “Goodnight, Elsa. Drive safe.”

Even though the chilly November air is drilling into her bones, Anna watches. She sees the blonde out, watching her until she gets into her car. They wave at each other one more time, and then Elsa is off. The taillights disappear when she makes a turn at the end of the street, and Anna finally has the will to go back inside.

It’s hitting her now how hard it is to breathe. Anna has to, _what,_ manually control her lungs to even out her breath. She leans back against the door, using her weight to shut it as she tries to adjust her vision. Oh, and her vision. Blurry again. She doesn’t even need glasses. Twenty-twenty vision and everything. So this is a strange phenomenon.

Whatever. Maybe she’ll get better after she eats. It’s probably just hunger.

She stands straight, fully intending to go into the kitchen to—

“Holy—” but then her freaking father is standing _right there,_ still wearing that smug look with his arms crossed and, _seriously_ —“Dad! What are you doing, standing here? Nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The grin on his face widens impossibly so. _Smug_ is no longer the proper way to describe the look, though. Anna recalls seeing her father smile like this when she came home holding her honours. And when she got her MVP trophy. And when she got her first part-time job last summer. So, is this… a look of pride? Is her father proud of her? Of what though…?

“You’re creeping me out, dad.”

Agnarr shakes his head. “Sorry, Anna,” he sounds anything but apologetic. In fact, his voice is strong, commanding. Anna hears him using this tone when he speaks with his clients over the phone. Very mature and professional. He walks over to his daughter and places a hand on her shoulder. “Good job.”

“Hmm?” Anna tilts her head in wonder. “For what?” Oh, is he talking about the game today? Wait, she hasn’t even told them about her victory yet. What is he going on about?

But she doesn’t get an answer, because her father just shakes his head again, dropping the subject. “Never mind,” he chuckles. “Come on, let’s go help your mom set up the table.”

And Anna is left standing there, overwhelmed with confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for all your feedback! i love reading your comments, it really brightens up my day :')


	4. Chapter 4

With only two weeks of school left, there really isn’t much of a point for Anna to meet up with Elsa. After all, winter break is around the corner; the students aren’t the only ones feeling the holiday spirit. Senior year or not, even the teachers seem to be slacking off during this time.

Now this, normally, would be something to rejoice over. A time where a minimal amount of homework is given, where there are no more tests, where all report cards have been distributed. Literally nothing to worry about.

Which means having math lessons is pointless.

And that is precisely the problem.

She _wants_ to have her math lessons. So that she can spend more time with Elsa. But how is she going to convince her parents that she needs to continue her lessons through winter break when, from the very start, she doesn’t even need them?

“Jeez, Anna, stop squishing your sandwich like that—you’re making it all gross.” Rapunzel grimaces.

The redhead jumps. “Sorry, I was just. Yeah.”

Rapunzel watches apprehensively, eyes alternating between Anna’s lunch and Anna herself, and, _god,_ here she goes again. Observing.

_Smirking._

And, what have you—

“I assume you’re acting all uneasy because…?”

“No reason,” Anna interrupts. She quickly unwraps her sandwich and bites into it. Big, big bites. Because the bigger her actions, the more distracting she will be, right? The more it’ll draw Rapunzel’s attention away from the fact that her cheeks are flushed and burning and that she’s freaking out.

It’s been happening so much recently. Anna thinks all of her friends are getting a kick out of it. Whenever the topic of _math_ or _teacher_ or _tutor_ or _blonde_ or even the colour _blue_ is brought up, her friends just turn to her; they bat their eyes, looking all innocent but glaringly smug at the same time, and it’s so freaking _irritating!_

Take first period in chemistry today. When Mr. Frollo brought out a sample of copper (II) sulfate encased in a beaker, Mulan and stupid Naveen, of all people, both sitting in front of her, just spin around in their seats and looked at her as if… as if they want her to react or something! What the hell does she even have to react to?!

(Well _,_ yeah, sure—the blue does _totally_ remind her of a certain someone’s eyes, _but!)_

It gets her so much because, like, they all seem to know that she’s fascinated with that _certain someone,_ yet Anna’s never actually showed it, right? Sure, she was acting nervously around the blonde that one time the latter visited, but Anna gets jumpy like that when she, say, walks into a test she hasn’t studied for. Or when she’s about to do a presentation she hasn’t readily rehearsed for. Point is, everyone gets nervous. Why do they make it such a big deal when it relates to Elsa? _Furthermore!_ Ever since the game that day, she’s been getting more attention. In that her teammates (including innocent, non-nosy Jane Porter) would ask if _that blonde girl_ will come and watch. And if she does, _Anna, make sure you don’t fall on her again._

Even Coach Adam. Oh lord. Even _Coach Adam_ asked last week if Elsa was going to come and watch her. Emphasis on _her._

Anna straight up just face-palmed when he asked.

“So,” Rapunzel speaks up, bringing Anna back from her trance. The golden-blonde wipes her lips clean with a napkin and clears her throat. “Since it’s just you and me here, and I’m totally trustworthy,”

Anna glares.

“Hey, don’t give me that look—I so am. Anyway,” she scoots closer. They’re in the school cafeteria and everyone’s minding their own business, so Rapunzel doesn’t really have to be so secretive. Whatever it is she’s planning to do. “Let me just ask you upfront.”

_Oh god._

“How far have you two gotten?”

Take note, Anna is still munching on her sandwich. And, as mentioned, she was taking big, _big_ bites. So it is only natural for her to be choking and wheezing and _dying_ when she hears that question that came from seemingly nowhere.

“Oh, my goodness!” Rapunzel starts patting her on the back. She reaches for Anna’s water bottle and shoves it in the redhead’s hands. “Drink! Come on, Anna, drink up! I don’t want to go to jail for murder, I’m too young!”

Anna swallows _hard._ Her heart burns at the sensation and she quickly downs the rest of the water to wash down the pain.

Rapunzel, to her credit, continues to scrub her back, hoping that it would ease her friend somehow. “Um... are you good?”

“If you went to jail for that, I would say you deserved it,” Anna chokes out, wiping away the tears in her eyes.

“Uh huh,” Rapunzel crosses her arms. “Now that you’re alive and well, let’s get back on topic. Have you guys kissed yet? What do you really do during your lessons? I don’t know much about this; you’re probably the only gay friend in the group—”

“I’m…!” Anna hisses. Her cheeks are red as tomatoes at this point and she’s pretty sure that steam is coming out from the top of her head. She’s forgotten how her friend can ramble as much as she herself can. Maybe even more. Like she just keeps on going—

“—so are you a top or are you a bottom? You look like a top, but that’s just putting you with her. She seems quiet, but you know what they say. Maybe she can be pretty wild in bed—”

“ _Rapunzel!_ ” She calls her name so loudly that she’s gathered attention from a few tables surrounding them. Anna waves to the people apologetically before ducking her head, turning back to the golden-blonde. “What are you talking about?!”

“Is it not obvious enough? I’m talking about your relationship with Elsa. I did mention her name, right?”

“I’m—that’s not the point! We’re just tutor and student, student and tutor! Nothing is going on between us! Why does everyone think that we’re _together_?!”

“Uh, because,” Rapunzel rolls her eyes, “The sexual tension between the two of you is intense enough to send the whole basketball court on their feet?”

“Oh my god,” she buries her face in her arms, dreading the topic of her falling on top of Elsa in front of everybody. “Stop. Talking. About. That. Game. It’s getting so old.”

“Okay,” Rapunzel narrows her brows together, as if deep in thought. “Then let’s talk about how you winked at her. That was the smoothest thing I’ve seen you done, Anna! Like, I think it _killed_ her. Shot an arrow straight into her heart because I’m pretty sure she swooned for a second _._ ”

Wait, what? She winked? Since when? Anna comes out of hiding. Now she’s the one deep in thought. When exactly did she wink…? She never does things like that.

Rapunzel, being as observant as she is, seems to be able to read minds. She knocks Anna on the head lightly, “After you made the reverse-layup in the third quarter, genius.” 

Anna blinks. “I-I did?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rapunzel shakes her head. “Point is, it is the most frustrating thing to see you like this. So please, please, _please_ get this over with and ask her out?”

Oh man, the heat is back. Anna’s cheeks are growing so warm again, and she is in desperate need to hide her face. It can’t be that obvious that she’s completely smitten by Elsa, is it?

The light chuckle that comes from her friend is enough of an answer.

It makes Anna frown, “I don’t…” she starts, chewing at her bottom lip, “… she’s so pretty and nice and smart. She can have anyone she wants. Why would she choose me?”

A groan. “God damn it, Anna,” Rapunzel pinches at the bridge of her nose.

Wow. How uncouth. Rapunzel is the most soft-spoken and polite girl she knows, her saying the _d-word_ is equivalent to a toddler saying the _f-word._ Anna’s just left sitting there, staring at her friend, horrified by her choice of words.

But Rapunzel ignores her. “Have you ever looked at yourself?” she asks.

Anna tilts her head.

“Why _wouldn’t_ she choose you?”

* * *

Another Friday, another day with Elsa. Anna is obviously looking forward to it, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to be excited because, what? There are only four more sessions with her until winter break. Anna won’t be seeing the blonde again until January. _Man,_ she’s not sure she can enjoy Christmas this year when she knows _for a fact_ that all she can and will think about is Elsa.

 _Okay,_ no. Don’t think this way.

Anna reminds herself that she’s her own person. She’s wiser than this. Sure, she’s lovestruck and whatever, but don’t be pathetic about it. _Act_ on it.

She’s determined—and that’s when Elsa texts her.

_‘Hello, Anna. Sorry this is so last minute, but is it okay if we reduced our lesson to just one hour today? I have another student to teach on campus at 5:30, and he has an exam coming up tomorrow, so he can’t switch the time, no matter what.’_

Cut their lesson short? Anna clenches her jaw. Her time with Elsa is already so limited. This isn’t good news. And Elsa has other kids to teach? But, well, that’s nothing surprising—Elsa has been posting on sites and stuff other than at the community centre, as per Anna’s advice. Plus, once again, it’s not like she actually needs Elsa. They’re already several units ahead of what Weasel Town is teaching. She’s also boosted her calculus grade back up to a mid-eighty percent, so the most viable thing to do is to cancel lesson all together, but…

Anna wants to see her.

_Really, really, really badly._

Okay. _Okay,_ no going back. She inhales deeply and starts typing away.

_‘Hi, Elsa! If it’s not too much trouble, how about I come to meet you instead? That way, you won’t have to travel to travel back and forth, right? Save time for you :)’_

That doesn’t sound desperate, does it? Anna keeps her thumbs hovering above her screen. She puts her phone to sleep, turns it back on, puts it to sleep, repeat, _repeat._ A sign of nervousness. Yeah, it’s not like doing this will make Elsa answer faster, but she just needs to keep her hands busy.

_Bzz bzz_

Anna stops herself from gasping out loud.

_‘I don’t mind, but is that okay for you? How are you going to get here? Do you need a ride? I can come down after my class at around 3:15 to pick you up, if that’s okay.’_

Anna bites back a giggle. _‘LOL Elsa, slow down! If you came to get me, wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of saving you time?’_

_‘Oh. You’re right. I’m sorry—it just came out.’_

She _almost_ chokes out a laugh this time. Anna glances up— _good,_ Ms. Tremaine is blind as hell, so as long as she’s sitting in the back, she wouldn’t notice Anna texting in class. Anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is that Elsa’s so attentive. Towards _her._ And it’s adorable. How can anyone say otherwise? The blonde really texted her a bunch of questions oozing with concern, and there’s so much urgency in it! As much as Anna wants to shove her phone in Rapunzel’s face (who’s busy taking notes, thank god, because Anna sure as hell isn’t paying attention to Tremaine’s horrible take on _Hamlet._ Seriously, she can go back to English 101 if she argues that Ophelia is a _pathetic_ character with _zero_ redeeming qualities), there’s a stronger need to keep this to herself. Before anything official happens, Anna doesn’t want to give Rapunzel any ideas. Her friend’s already so into her relationship with Elsa; there’s no need to add fuel to the fire.

_‘You really like apologizing, don’t you?’_

_‘… :(‘_

Holy. _Jeez._ Like, somehow, Anna can picture that little sad face on Elsa. How she’s pouting with her lower lip puffed up, looking at Anna with large, puppy eyes and just so huggable and _ugh_ —

 _‘But I do appreciate the offer! :D’_ Anna tries not to grin too widely as she types. _‘I can actually get to the university if I took the bus.’_ She opens up Google Maps and routes her way, internalizes the directions, and then switches back to her conversation with Elsa, _‘Yep, it’ll take me 30 minutes since it won’t be rush hour.’_

A moment, and then Elsa replies, _‘Are you sure you’re alright coming alone?_

_‘I’ll be fine!’_

_‘You can call me if anything happens, okay?’_

Seriously, this girl. _‘It’ll be okay, Elsa. Don’t worry! I’m a big girl!’_

 _‘Okay…’_ The next message comes instantly, _‘Wait, hold on. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?’_

Uh-oh, busted. Anna sticks out a tongue to herself. _‘Yep :) but, hey, you take priority over Ms. Tremaine’s boring lectures, any day.’_

She sends that message without much thought.

* * *

Anna looks intently at the routed direction, again and again, to ensure that she won’t screw up. A voice in her head reminds her that it’s really not that hard. The way to North Mountain University is one straight road; as long as she doesn’t have the sudden urge to jump off the bus and get lost in the forest, there is literally no way she can make a wrong turn. Elsa did tell Anna to get off at the second-to-the-last stop, as it is much closer to the dormitory area.

So Anna acts accordingly. The ride to her destination is slightly intimidating, though, because everyone looks taller and bigger and—this is key—more mature than herself. Those lucky enough to be in a seat have their laptops or tablets opened up and are so concentrated on their screens. Those who are standing are clutching onto the grab handles with one hand and holding onto notes with another, looking just as focused. Is this how it’s like to be a university student? Anna can practically feel the serious atmosphere that everyone is giving off; it kind of makes her want to work harder. Grow up faster. Something like that.

When her stop arrives, Anna doesn’t even need to press the button. A bunch of passengers start stumbling with their items, shoving them inside their bags and push their way out the exit. Anna, being one of the tinier people on the bus, gets sandwiched between several taller students (whom she totally thinks are the definition of frat boys) —“Excuse me! Sorry, coming through!”—but manages to squeeze out of the doorway in the end. Touching solid ground at last, Anna realizes that her head is spinning. God damn, she actually was suffocating in there. In any case, she should check her phone to see where Elsa’s dorm is, but then—

“Anna!”

The gentle voice cuts through the cold air and Anna thinks she’s cracked her lip from smiling too wide. “Elsa!” She runs to the blonde who is standing right at the bus stop. Anna knows full well that she probably resembles an overexcited kindergartener running towards an ice-cream truck but _come on!_ “You came to get me?”

The blonde, smiling just as widely—except, obviously, she looks way calmer and more refined and not kindergarten-like at all—greets Anna with a shy little wave. “I—” she hesitates a little, “—didn’t want you to get lost. The campus is quite big.”

Anna’s mother is right; Elsa is so sweet. She feels like crying, but that’s just too much, isn’t it? Hold back— _hold yourself back!_

“You’re doubting me, aren’t you?” Anna teases.

And Elsa actually feels bad about it. Anna can tell because the blonde’s thin brows are creased together in worry and it’s so, _so_ cute. “No, I was… I was just—”

“Elsa, it’s fine. I was just joking,” the redhead laughs.

She’s expecting Elsa to just laugh along or something, but what does she do next? She pouts. Like, actually pouts. And it’s as endearing as Anna has pictured, perhaps even more. Just look at her! The way her pink cheeks puff up, the way that bottom lip sticks out, and those eyes, _oh god,_ those blue eyes. In that short moment, Anna pictures herself throwing her arms around Elsa, to shield her from anything and _everything_. To simply look at her.

But her imaginative mind needs to be controlled.

All this fairy tale-esque scenarios need to be tamed. Otherwise, Anna will sooner embarrass herself.

So she speaks up instead, bringing herself back to reality. “Anyway, where are we doing this?”

Elsa purses her lips one final time before answering, “Usually, when I have lessons on campus, I teach them at the library, but since it’s exam week, I don’t think we’re going to find the space available. I would’ve booked a room, but it was so last minute…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Anna says quickly, “I didn’t know I would cause you so much trouble—”

“No, no, Anna. It’s no trouble at all,” Elsa shakes her head. “I was going to say that we can just have our lesson in my dorm instead.”

“Your—” _gulp,_ “—dorm? Like, as in, your room?”

A little nod. “Yes. It’s a bit small, but if you’d prefer the library…”

“No, anything is fine!” Anna cuts in. “I mean, anything that is convenient for you, Elsa. I’m the one imposing, after all.”

“You’re not imposing,” she says. Anna catches Elsa biting her lip, and it makes her do the same thing inadvertently. “I… I’m glad you came,” Elsa continues, “I wouldn’t want to miss a lesson with you.”

She giggles, scratching a finger at her flushed cheek. “I’m that bad, huh?”

“No,” Elsa walks ahead, gesturing at the younger girl to follow along. And then she continues in a soft voice, “Just… it’s nice to see you, Anna.”

Anna smiles, thoroughly amused by how Elsa is able to look extra small whenever she speaks like that.

* * *

“Wow!” Anna exclaims, high on being enraptured by the college life-slash-atmosphere, “Your room is huge! I’ve always thought that dorms were tiny and stuffy.”

Elsa chuckles. She removes her jacket and drapes it over a seat next to what appears to be a working station. Or, at least, where Elsa would do her work. Stationery is placed neatly in a little container at the side, and her laptop and some advanced-looking textbooks are piled up next to it. Anna glances around the room. Warm lighting, a private bathroom near the entrance, a bed that appears to be twin sized, a small couch, and a forty-inch-ish TV.

“Seriously. Your place is like a hotel room compared to what I’ve pictured.”

Elsa clasps her hands together at her front. A very, very elegant pose, Anna notes. “This is originally a shared room, but since there are only about thirteen female students in the faculty for my year, I got the whole room to myself,” she explains. “Many of the others have their own rooms as well, so… I guess we engineering girls have it lucky.”

Anna’s half-listening. She’s too distracted by the view through that magnificent full-length glass window. Despite being a dormitory, everything looks very chic. Modern. Is this what the smarter students get? The privilege of choosing the newer dormitories? It also has to be taken into account that NMU’s engineering faculty is quite renowned, so Anna wouldn’t be surprised if this were true.

“I’ll prepare some drinks. You can set up and wait for me at the table, okay?”

She gives Elsa a nod but can’t fight the temptation. “May I go have a look?” she asks finally, “The view is too amazing to ignore.”

“Yes, of course.”

Anna grins and tries not to trip over herself as she makes her way towards the window. Elsa’s room faces east; she gets a pretty solid view of the city down below, which extends beyond the vast array of trees gradually descending down the mountain. It’s hard to believe that the bus ride up here only takes thirty minutes.

“This place isn’t ideal if you’re afraid of heights,” Elsa says behind her.

“Or it can be the best thing ever if you’re _not,_ ” Anna answers, turning to face the blonde. It is then she sees Elsa standing there, behind the kitchen counter, motionless. And she’s looking at her. Elsa’s just… looking. Anna’s rational side deduces that maybe Elsa’s admiring the view behind her. The sunset is quite beautiful, after all. The bright orange of the lights is mixed seamlessly with the shades of pink and purple of the clouds—much like an abstract oil painting. It is so gorgeous.

Almost as gorgeous as the blonde, still standing quietly in her little space.

Is she staring too long? Is this getting too much? Anna’s not too sure. She just knows that she doesn’t want to break this moment.

But then, of all things, the _kettle_ abruptly cuts this moment short. Its annoying, squeaky noise draws Elsa’s attention away, and Anna frowns, tightening her fists a little to channel away the frustration. Whatever _. Elsa totally wasn’t looking at her anyway,_ she thinks as she returns to the table. She takes a seat and reaches for her textbook in her bag. No laptop today because she came directly from school. Anna occupies herself by flipping slowly to the assigned page, but she would glance up every now and then to see if Elsa is ready.

The blonde’s got her back against her, and Anna can’t help but to look at the low collar that exposes the back of Elsa’s neck. The smooth skin there screams for attention, and every fibre of Anna’s body wishes to reach out to touch her. To place her palm gently on the span Elsa’s nape. To feel the older girl’s warmth. Anna’s eyes continue to wander, moving downwards—as low as the loose t-shirt (thank you, designer) reveals; down to Elsa’s shoulder blades, which reminds her—

“Did you ever go see the doctor for your back, Elsa?” she asks.

“Yes,” Elsa says, “I went right away the next morning. It really was a bruise after all, so it’s nothing to worry about.” She turns around, holding two mugs in her hands as she makes her way towards the table. Anna marvels at the way the silky fabric of the shirt flows. How it just glides with Elsa’s movement. God, it’s so. _Wow._ “Hot chocolate?”

“Oh, thank you!” Anna breathes in. How did she not smell this earlier?! “I love all things chocolate!” she holds onto the cute purple mug with both hands, watching the steam rise from her drink.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Elsa smiles. She sits next to the redhead and places her blue mug down. “It’s too bad I don’t have whipping cream. Hot chocolate just isn’t complete without it.”

“Well,” Anna takes a careful sip. _Oof._ Yep, it’s still too hot. “There’s always next time,” she finishes with a wink.

Elsa breathes in. It’s quiet, but Anna definitely hears it.

_… Wait._

Oh god, Anna actually is aware of it this time. She turns away. Rapunzel’s right—she really _does_ wink. So stupid. Why does she feel the need to do that?

But Anna does well in masking her mental heart attack; she busies herself with the mug, holding it close to her lips to hide her face. Is it just her, or did it suddenly get a few degrees warmer in here? It’s probably her. She looks to Elsa at the corner of her eyes and… _god,_ she’s—Elsa’s _blushing!_ Okay, so she definitely did that. Making Elsa blush. Should she apologize? Winking doesn’t usually work out unless the one doing it is handsome and smooth and charming and… just—everything that Anna _isn’t!_

Yes. That’s right. She should apologize after all.

Anna takes a deep breath. “Elsa, I—”

“Anna—”

They both stop. Anna is the first to react. “Um, go ahead,” she says, sucking her bottom lip in.

“No, you can go first,” Elsa says softly.

“No, really,” Anna chuckles, “I’m not—I don’t have anything important to say, I was just…” she pauses, now fully conscious of the fact that Elsa’s looking at her. Straight in the eyes. Like she’s searching for something. Like the many times they have made eye contact in the past few weeks. The momentary connection they establish never loses its effect—never gets any less stellar.

Because Elsa is an enigma. An entity that she will never, for the life of her, decipher. But Elsa. She—she’s looking at Anna the same way. With the same sense of wonder. Curiosity. _Admiration._

And Anna would be lying to herself if she said that the magnetic pull she feels towards this girl is but an illusion. The shortness of breath prompts her to inhale more sharply, but she knows— _hears—_ that it’s the same case for Elsa. She doesn’t want to read this wrong, but she also doesn’t want to miss this chance. Anna pours all commitment into her next move; she darts her eyes away, breaking the fragile connection between them, only to focus on Elsa’s parted lips.

She needs to know.

“Elsa,” Anna calls her name in the gentlest voice possible. She doesn’t want to startle her.

“Yes?” Elsa answers, in an equally gentle voice.

What does she want to say? Anna’s lips are dry. She’s having trouble breathing. Her palms are sweaty. Her head is spinning. Everything is a blur. “I…” _Don’t do anything stupid._ “… I want—”

_Bzz bzz bzz_

They gasp. Drawing back in an instant and Anna immediately feels blood rushing into her heart. Her chest expands as she urges herself to take deep, deep breaths.

“I-I’m sorry,” Elsa says as she stumbles to get her phone out of her pocket, “I usually turn it off, I just—” her eyes widen when she sees the screen. “I’m sorry, I, um. I have to…”

“Yeah, no. Don’t worry. Go ahead. Take it. I don’t mind.” Anna says everything in one short breath.

Elsa mouths a thank you and walks off. She stands at the corner of the room and answers the phone. “Hello? Grandfather?”

 _Grandfather?_ Anna doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but, like, come on. There’s only so much space. Even if Elsa hides in the bathroom, Anna would hear.

“I’m well, thank you. Yes—it’s been busy, and I…” she turns, makes eye contact with Anna once again.

On instinct, Anna looks away. Pretending as though she wasn’t staring.

And, wow. Does Elsa speak in the most formal tone ever. If Anna did not hear that it is her grandfather she’s speaking to, she’d think that Elsa’s talking to a stranger or something.

“Yes. It is next week,” Elsa’s voice lightens; Anna glances up again to see her smiling, “I’ll be free after my exam in the morning. I—”

The smile disappears. Elsa’s expression just _deflates._

Oh no, did something happen?

“… No. It—it’s fine, grandfather. I understand.” Elsa clenches her jaw, her throat bobbing. “Thank you for calling.” Another pause. “I… I’ll see you soon.”

The call ends.

But Elsa keeps the phone at her ear. She stays like that for a long period. Anna thinks she’s short-circuited or something, but then Elsa finally returns to the table, head down. Like all the happiness in her has been extracted.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

Elsa kind of shakes her head and kind of nods it. Anna can’t really tell, until the blonde actually speaks up, “Yeah, just—” she clenches her fingers together, fiddling with them loosely, “I thought I…”

She can’t bear to see Elsa so troubled. Against better judgement, Anna reaches out, placing a palm on Elsa’s shoulder. When the girl in question turns to her, Anna gives her the warmest, softest smile.

In return, Elsa gives her one of her own—albeit weakly. But then she reaches for Anna’s hand, resting her own on it. “Never mind. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” she asks in a barely audible voice.

Anna prolongs her smile, letting Elsa know that she’s here. She’s listening. “I won’t be, as long as you’re okay.”

Elsa forces herself to smile wider. “It’s nothing,” she lets go of Anna’s hand to reach for the textbook in front of them.

The blonde’s hand isn’t particularly warm, but Anna still misses that brief contact they’ve made. She tries her best to savour the moment. Take in the little heat that came out of Elsa’s palm, and her mind begins to wander.

 _Next week._ Elsa and her grandfather were talking about next week. What’s next week? Christmas? Oh, that’s it. Her grandfather was calling to schedule for—no, scratch that—to tell Elsa that he can’t schedule to celebrate Christmas. _Wow._ Who doesn’t have time for _Christmas?!_ Also, even if Elsa’s grandfather can’t make it, she can still celebrate with her parents, no?

God, there are so many questions she wants to ask. This is why Elsa’s an enigma. A mystery. There are so many questions revolving around her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna asks instead. It’s a legitimate question, considering how down Elsa looks right now.

“Yeah.” Elsa says without much commitment.

 _Ouch._ Anna actually feels the pang in her chest. Like somebody struck her with a knife. Would it be too much if she invited Elsa over for Christmas? The holidays are a time for family, so yeah, _idiot,_ this most certainly would be too much. But she wants to do something.

“Okay, so we left off with these equations last time…”

Anna needs to do something.

* * *

When the lesson ends, Elsa, being the responsible, attentive, and kindest sweetheart that she is, walks Anna to the bus stop.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

Anna laughs. “I think you’ve forgotten the whole reason I came up here.” They stand close together under the schedule display screen. _Three minutes until arrival_ , it reads, and Anna is acutely aware of how her and Elsa’s arms are touching. She’s drawn to it. She wants to lean closer. Because Elsa really does have the perfect height—if Anna so as much as tilt her head a little, she would be resting on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but…” Elsa looks around them. There are only about five people lining up, and that seems to concern her. “… the sky’s dark and you’re all by yourself.”

“Did I mention that I’m a big girl?” Anna giggles.

The older girl purses her lips. “I know, I’m sorry if I’m coming off as annoying—”

“Whoa, no! You’re—there’s no way you’d ever be annoying,” she turns to face Elsa completely. “I just find it really sweet how you’re so concerned for me.” It’s the truth. Anna doesn’t feel embarrassed saying it out loud.

But apparently, Elsa feels embarrassed hearing it. Her shoulders rise up to her ears, her cheeks turn a tad pinker, and she ducks her head and she looks so, _so_ small.

 _Ugh,_ she’s so cute. How many times did she think this way towards Elsa just today? Probably around ten. But it’ll never get old. They stay like this—with Elsa looking away, occasionally stealing glances at the redhead with shy eyes, while Anna would respond with playful glances of her own.

When the bus arrives, Anna lets everyone in line behind her to get on first. She needs a moment with Elsa, _hello._

“Goodnight, Elsa,” Anna says, wanting so much to hold her hand as she speaks. “See you next week.”

Elsa looks at her with worry. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

 _Oh, lord._ Anna’s heart _throbs._ She can’t even speak anymore, so she just nods. When she gets on the bus, she sits in the very back row, so she can see Elsa even as the bus drives away. And, what do you know? Just as she has thought—Elsa actually stays there to watch her until the bus has driven too far. Until she’s no longer in view.

And Anna, likewise, watches the blonde through the window until her figure becomes too small.

It is only then she sits properly.

It is only then she realizes that the throbbing in her heart hasn’t stopped; in fact, it has become more intense. Anna has to clutch onto her chest to soothe the feeling.

But, _not important,_ that’s not her main concern right now. Anna fumbles for her phone and scrolls to her and Rapunzel’s chat. She needs help. She is in _desperate_ need of guidance, and she doesn’t know who else to consult. Like, she will take literally anyone at this point.

 _‘Rapunzel, I need help,’_ Anna types with her trembling fingers.

Less than a moment later, a reply comes in the form of a question mark. 

And Anna replies immediately, _‘What do you think Elsa wants for Christmas?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to confess that the only reason i’m updating this quickly is because i really want them to DO IT ALREADY but then all this stuff has to happen first so please bear with me


	5. Chapter 5

Rapunzel, of course, doesn’t take the question seriously. After typing out all the lyrics to _All I Want For Christmas Is You,_ she proceeds to send a bunch of stickers that have no correlation to the entire situation. Like, all Anna wants is an opinion! Why does Rapunzel have to be so mean about it!

(Granted, it is pretty funny. Anna does find it amusing. But then that girl thinks it’s okay to—)

_Mulan Fa has been added to the conversation._

(—it makes Anna question their friendship.)

_‘Mulan! We gotta help poor little Anna out!’_

_‘Huh.’_

No. No, they really don’t. Anna starts typing, _‘Please, just ignore her. She’s gone crazy.’_

But then Rapunzel proceeds to summarize everything—with a load of exaggerated BS, of course. She spurts on about how Mulan can give valuable insight on this matter as she is currently dating some guy who is in college. And since Mulan is with someone older, she would automatically understand Elsa better?

Yeah, no. It doesn’t make sense.

 _‘Well,’_ Mulan sends, _‘It seems like you two are already at it, no? I mean, when you winked at her that game—if she hadn’t already, I’m pretty sure she fell for you at that moment. So just admit it, Anna. You two totally are a thing.’_

_‘We ARE NOT a thing!’_

_‘Yet!’_ Rapunzel sends in an instant.

 _‘Oh my god,’_ Anna taps at the keyboard madly, her thumbs nearly cramping from the force. _‘Are you guys gonna help me out or not!’_

Well, of course they will help her. That’s what friends are for, right? Rapunzel proposes that they go shopping tomorrow, but Anna stresses that they’ll probably find nicer things online. The conversation spirals out of control as Mulan argues that Anna is an idiot for thinking stuff will be delivered on time during the holidays; Rapunzel then states that they meet downtown tomorrow so they can walk around the shopping district. Mulan says that she wants to get a new pair of runners because hers are tearing apart at the ridges? Man, this isn’t even about Anna anymore, because Rapunzel is now saying that she wants to get a new bag.

 _Ugh._ It was a stupid idea after all, to consult with her friends.

So the plan is set in motion. They will meet tomorrow at noon. Take advantage of the weekend and all. They say their goodnights, and Anna thinks that all is over until—

_‘Rapunzel has changed the group’s name to “Operation Hook Anna up wit”.’_

Huh?

_‘Ugh. Not enough space.’_

_‘Mulan has changed the group’s name to “Operation HAUWE”.’_

Anna frowns. _‘What does HAUWE even stand for?’_

 _‘Hook Anna Up With Elsa. Duh. Use your big brain,’_ is Mulan’s instant reply.

For the love of—holy _shit_ , god damn it _._ These two are going to be the death of her. She swears; if anything, Anna knows that she will most likely die from a stroke triggered by these two. Here’s to hoping that they don’t add anyone else into this chat.

_‘Oh, oh, oh! One more thing!’_

Oh, god. What now?

_‘Rapunzel has changed the group’s icon.’_

Anna squints. She can’t get a clear enough view of the picture, so she taps into the tiny icon to enlarge it, and… _and…!_

 _‘Whoa, when did you snap a picture of Elsa, Rapunzel?’_ Mulan says, followed by a series of the crying-laughing emoji.

_‘Hehe. She did sit right beside me during the game. I took it thinking that Anna might want it one day for safekeeping. And what do you know? It’s come to be of great use!’_

_‘I mean that is very stalker-like of you, but if it means to secure Anna’s future, I would have to say that you’ve done well.’_

Bunch of _assholes!_ Anna tosses her phone to the side, doesn’t even care when it slides off the edge of her bed and lands on the floor with a soft _thud._ She’s agitated, but admittedly isn’t entirely bothered by their ridiculous antics.

* * *

“What does she like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay… what are her hobbies?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Um, what about food? What do you think she likes to eat?”

“Chocolate?”

“Anna!” Rapunzel frowns. “This isn’t about you. We need to know what _Elsa_ likes!”

“I mean, I would tell you!” Anna exclaims, “But I have no idea! She did give me hot chocolate, so I just assumed!”

Rapunzel and Mulan simultaneously roll their eyes. That, in a sense, makes Anna feel a little… self-conscious? Like she’s done something stupid or can’t answer an easy question or something. She crosses her arms and looks down the crowded shopping district. Many people are out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, so it’s really hard to stand in one place without bumping into these desperate shoppers. And that’s distracting as hell.

_Moreover._

These two aren’t helping _at all._ It’s been over two hours now; it’s getting colder, the wind is stronger, and it looks like it’s going to snow. Yet, she still hasn’t even thought of what to get Elsa. Which was the entire point of this outing! Now—now _look what they’re doing!_

“I wonder if they still have the shoes I saw online…” Mulan mumbles to herself.

“Mhmm. I’m hoping the bag I saw last week is still in stock…” Rapunzel says.

Okay. Literally. Useless. Anna grunts, “Alright, it feels like I’m holding you two back. Actually, it’s like you’re out here for another purpose anyway, so why don’t we meet up when we’re all done doing our own thing?”

“Yes!” Rapunzel squeals without hesitation. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that, you hopeless romantic!”

Mulan smirks. “I didn’t want to say it because I didn’t want to look like a bad friend, so thank you, I guess.”

Anna shakes her head in mock-disappointment. “Uh huh, you are so very welcome.” She pauses to glance at the time on her phone. “You guys do you. Want to meet up after for dinner or…?”

“Ah, not me. I have to meet up with someone,” Mulan says with a small smile.

“Aw, a date with that college boy,” Rapunzel croons. Then, out of nowhere, she turns to Anna, “This could be you and Elsa too, if you would just—”

“Okay, stop!” Anna thrusts a palm in front of the golden-blonde’s face. “Like you said, not everything is about me, right? Now go buy your bag and shoes and whatever!”

With that, they go their separate ways.

And without the two being unnecessary distractions, Anna has the opportunity to go into the strangest stores that would otherwise make Rapunzel eye her in the most judgemental way possible. Because, really. _The Disney Store?_ Even the voice in Anna’s head is judging her. But she can’t help it! All the cute plushies, those cool light sabers with the badass sound effects! Gosh, every time she comes in, she feels like a kid again. And then there are the little areas in the store that play Disney movies at random— _oh,_ she loves _Lilo and Stitch!_

Wait. No, no. _Stop._

She’s out here today for Elsa, not for herself.

Anna bares her teeth and forces herself out of the store. _Goodbye, Donald Duck…!_

She makes her way to a bookstore. Elsa seems like the type who likes to read. Maybe she can get her a book? _Nah,_ that’s totally lame. A video game store. _No,_ she didn’t see any game consoles in Elsa’s room. Plus, the laptop she’s using isn’t even a gaming PC. Elsa’s not a gamer. Perhaps some clothes— _ooh, Victoria’s Secret!_

A surge of heat bursts upwards to Anna’s cheeks when she sees the mannequin on display. It’s wearing this deep blue, see-through lingerie… lacy panties… _garter belt_ thing that Anna just accidentally pictures Elsa wearing and. No. Just… no. She’s not into this. With flushed cheeks, she quickens her pace.

Then, she comes across a small, rustic-looking store that is brightly lit up from the outside.

“Wandering Oaken’s Trading Post…?” Anna reads the green sign above. From the window, she sees a series of trinkets on shelves; fairy lights are carefully laid out all over the ceiling for decoration, but she still can’t really tell what this place really sells. Out of curiosity, Anna goes in and glances around tentatively. The warmth of the store envelopes her and the coldness that’s been biting at her cheeks recedes.

“Hoo-hoo!”

The strange voice catches her attention. Anna turns a corner and sees a man—a _very_ large man sitting behind the counter. Despite his size, he is nowhere intimidating. Naturally, Anna smiles.

“Last minute shopping, ya?” he says with an accent that Anna can’t really determine, “Go ahead and have a look around. Let me know if you need anything, ya?”

She thanks him and wanders off. The store is strange indeed; there are a lot of garden gnomes—the cute kind, not the scary kind; tiny embellishments that one may place on the windowsill, little golden figures of reindeers, snowmen, _gingerbread men._ Just… a lot of Christmas and winter-related objects. She honestly doesn’t think she’ll find anything for Elsa here, but then…

_What’s this?_

A snow globe. A little sphere that fits snugly in both her hands. The white stand blends seamlessly, acts like a mountain, to the structure within—a palace of sorts—that appears as though it were constructed with ice. The design is sophisticated, intricate, and extremely refined. Anna dips the snow globe and sets it upright again, letting the tiny snowflakes fall as they should. She holds it up to the light; the mixture of cerulean blue, specks of violet, pink, and white of the little palace mix together in a gentle tone. It’s enthralling, so to speak, to be entranced by a mere ornament.

And Anna doesn’t need to be reminded where and with _whom_ she may experience such a feeling.

Yes, that’s it. This is the one. It may not be much, but this definitely belongs to Elsa. Anna holds the snow globe close and heads to the counter.

“Ah, a lovely choice! Did you know it plays music?”

“Wait, what?” Anna blinks.

He grins, turns the trinket over, and turns the tiny pin underneath several times. A familiar tune then begins to play. The little jingle puts a smile on her face, though she doesn’t know what song this actually is. That’s the problem with her; she would hear these popular songs but would never remember their names or their context. Whatever the case, the song’s a nice addition. She knows Elsa likes soft music, based on what she’s heard during that short car ride she’s had a few weeks back, so there’s nothing wrong with having this included with the gift.

“This is all, ya?”

Her smile widens at the excitement of giving this to Elsa. “Yes, this will be it.”

* * *

Anna doesn’t exactly have a plan in this.

Originally, she thought about showing up on Christmas Day with the present in hand, but that’s kind of stupid, isn’t it? Firstly, as she knows, it’s a day for families to gather. She’ll probably be confined at home with her parents where they’d unwrap gifts together or something. Her aunts and uncles and little cousins are going to come over, as they do every year, so her not being there is going to be rude. Secondly, and most importantly, Elsa might not even be up in the dorm anymore. Maybe she’d have gone home for the holidays. Overhearing that phone call, Anna thinks that even if she can’t celebrate with her grandfather, Elsa can still go home to her parents, right? No way she’s just going to get cooped up on the mountain for the rest of winter break.

And so, the most appropriate thing to do is to give Elsa the present early. Yes, that’s it. That’s the plan.

Okay, _let’s see._ Elsa said last week that she’d be free after her exam in the morning. As in—whatever that exam is should be her last one for the semester. Anna quickly opens up the browser on her phone and types in NMU engineering exam schedule. She has no idea what courses Elsa takes, but the girl has mentioned something about structural and civil engineering. The least Anna can do is to check on the approximate time and guess the date when Elsa leaves the mountain based on whenever the last exam is.

Chemical Engineering… nope, not that one. Anna scrolls lower. December 19th…? Nah, that’s too soon; it’s nowhere near Christmas, either. Geotechnical engineering? Does that have anything to do with civil? Jeez, all these course codes and names are so confusing. Anna licks her bottom lip, face scrunching in concentration and she sits up. She scrolls all the way to the bottom this time and decides to work her way up.

_BIOMOLECULAR ENGINEERING 510 EXAM TIME: DECEMBER 22 nd; 19:00 – LOCATION: SOUTH APPLIED SCIENCES BUILDING._

Okay… that is the last one on the list. Which means December 22nd is the last day of exams for Elsa’s faculty. So, Elsa was intending to leave right away on the 22nd to celebrate Christmas? _Hm,_ that’s odd. Or maybe, it’s just… she just wants to leave the dorm as soon as possible. Poor girl does look quite lonely rooming alone. Anna scrolls up a bit higher and, _voila—_

_CIVIL ENGINEERING 340 EXAM TIME: DECEMBER 22 nd; 08:30 – LOCATION: PETERSSEN RESEARCH BUILDING._

Morning time, _check._ Civil engineering, _check._ 300-level meaning third year. _Check._ This should be the one.

Anna’s going to skip the last two periods to leave the school at lunch time. She’ll be up on the mountain by noon, wait for Elsa by her door, and _surprise._ Easy. This is all going to end so smoothly. If she gets the day wrong, or if Elsa’s already left, then… well, it’s fine. At least she’s tried. Worse comes to worst, she can walk around campus and decide whether or not she wants to attend NMU next year. _Ooh!_ She should also get a cake! A chocolate Christmas cake.

Then, maybe—just _maybe—_ they can eat it together. Sure, she’s awkward at times, but she can tell when people are uncomfortable. If it gets too weird, Anna will just leave.

That’s it. Present and cake. _Perfect._

She smirks at her ingeniousness and bounces up to her desk. She’s got to wrap the present nicely, after all. Oh, and she has to call in to order a cake at her favourite dessert shop. God knows how busy they are, especially during this time.

* * *

The day arrives, and Anna sees the snowfall as a sign of good luck. It comes down slowly, as beautifully as it does in the snow globe. The large pieces of snowflakes stick to the ground effortlessly, and in the short duration of several minutes where she’s waiting for the bus to the university, the cement pavements have already been covered. The grass on the fields can barely be seen, and the sight screams _Winter Wonderland._

Anna fixes a strap of her backpack, clutching at it out of nervousness. The present is tucked safely in there—nothing to worry about. Her other hand holds onto the strings of a bag, holding that cake she just picked up.

The bus arrives, which means the moment is approaching, and Anna can’t stop fidgeting. She finds herself fixing her beret, her pigtails, her scarf, her coat, her denim shorts, her tights under her shorts, her _everything._ Man, she doesn’t usually care so much about what she wears. It feels like she’s going on a date. Which is weird, because she’s never gone on a date. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? _Whew._ So much stress. She takes a seat and places the cake on her lap, holding onto it loosely so she wouldn’t crush it.

Hopefully, her showing up can put a smile on Elsa’s face. That’s really all that she wants from this. Because that look the blonde had after the phone call with her grandfather the other day was just… _god,_ it didn’t make sense. Elsa should never look so sad.

_Bzz bzz_

Oh, from Rapunzel. In _Operation HAUWE_. Anna rolls her eyes, why is she messaging—

_‘HAVE YOU TWO DONE IT YET.’_

Anna would have punched her in the face through the phone if it were possible.

 _‘Jeez, Rapunzel, calm down. Anna looks like the type to drag on foreplay, so obviously they haven’t.’_ And Mulan isn’t helping. Again.

These two are unbelievable. Anna can only shake her head; its best to change the topic, _‘Has Weasel Town noticed that I’m gone?’_

 _‘Nah,’_ comes Rapunzel’s response. _‘He didn’t even take attendance, so you’re safe.’_

 _Good,_ Anna thinks. _‘Cover for me in bio if needed, please, Mulan?’_

_‘Yeah, duh. You’re on a journey to pursue the love of your life; what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support you?’_

Anna chuckles. While she does feel grateful, she isn’t going to encourage them to tease her any longer. She slips her phone back in her pocket and looks out the window. Is it just her, or is the snow falling thicker?

Well, so long as her plan works out, everything else doesn’t matter.

* * *

When she arrives at the stop, the snow is already at her ankles. The bus ride was only thirty minutes, and it’s already gotten this high. _Oof,_ it’s actually getting so cold and windy. A shiver runs all over her body and she paces her way towards Elsa’s dormitory.

She notices that there are significantly less people compared to the last time she’s visited, but that’s perhaps because it’s the last day of exams? Even the building itself seems pretty deserted; the usual frat boys and sorority-like girls aren’t present. Everything just feels… cleaner? But then, the place doesn’t exactly seem _dead._ Anna doesn’t know how to explain it—it’s just, yeah. It’s like the air has been lifted. It’s not as intimidating. Something like that.

The elevator brings her to the fifth floor—Elsa’s floor—and she heads down the hall. _505_ , she remembers. She glances at her phone, sees that it is way past noon, which means that Elsa should have finished her exam. As Anna nears the door, she finds her throat getting increasingly dry—like someone’s forcing sand down mouth. _Eck,_ gross.

Oh god, she’s already at the door. Should she knock? Yeah _, stupid_ , of course she should knock. Anna raises a hand, her knuckles an inch away from the white hardwood. All she has to do is twist her wrist a little and _knock, knock._

 _Ooooh,_ but she can’t! God, why is this so hard?! Anna turns on her heels; she starts pacing back and forth. She did _not_ envision the difficulty in this. In a perfect world, she would have knocked, given Elsa an easy _Merry Christmas!_ She would have handed over the present and the cake, Elsa would have smiled at her, and then she would be off. It would have been that simple.

Yet, here she is, too scared to even knock.

She takes a deep breath. _Alright,_ she has got to stop screwing around. She’s wasting time. What if Elsa’s in a hurry? What if Elsa’s going to come out of the door, _right now,_ with her luggage and stuff to head down the mountain—

The door opens—

Anna’s eyes bulge and she thinks she’s screaming inside.

Wide, cerulean blue eyes look at her in surprise as Elsa keeps the crack between the door small. As if she’s afraid to see what’s outside—as if she’s hiding. But some time passes, and Elsa finally lets her guard down. Slowly, the door opens up, bit by bit.

“A-Anna…?” Elsa calls in her delicate voice.

Anna clenches her jaw and swallows. “Um,” she tries. The hand holding onto the bag with the cake trembles when she tries to bring it up. _Oh man,_ she can’t even look Elsa in the eye. Her cheeks are burning and her eyebrows are getting sweaty. She hates it when her eyebrows get sweaty! “… For you.”

Elsa blinks at the bag. She holds onto it with both hands. “For me?”

Anna nods. She clenches her hand behind herself. Darts her eyes to the corner because she _cannot_ make eye contact with this girl right now. She might explode on the spot. Anna hears the soft rumpling of the paper bag.

“You… you got me a cake?” Elsa says.

She nods again, still much too overwhelmed to raise her head.

“How did you…” Elsa seems to be talking to herself at this point, because her voice is so small, it just sounds like she’s breathing.

So Anna gathers up her courage and looks up.

 _Oh,_ and her heart melts at the sight.

Elsa’s cheeks are flushed pink. She’s holding onto the bottom of the bag with a careful grip—like if she so much as moves, the whole thing will collapse—and… and her eyes are watery? Wow, all Anna is asking for is a smile, so to see Elsa all teary-eyed, it really is—it makes Anna want to cry.

“How did you know it was today?” Elsa says, louder this time.

“Hmm?” Know _?_ Today? Anna blinks. What about today? It’s December 22nd. Not Christmas. But Elsa still seemed so excited to meet up with her grandfather.

Her mind starts processing the situation.

Huh, weird.

What _is_ today?

December 22nd.

Not Christmas.

Today.

 _Not_ Christmas.

_“… How did you know it was today?”_

The cake.

Oh.

Oh, okay.

_Wait._

OH.

OH, SHIT—

Anna gnaws at her bottom lip to suppress her moment of _eureka!_ She manages to smile, gritting her teeth and says the first thing that comes to mind, “… Intuition.”

“…”

Wow. _Wowowowowow._ Great excuse. Really, just _great._ She’s really screwed it up. That was dumb. The lamest thing she can possibly say. Elsa probably thinks she’s an idiot.

But there’s no response.

Anna dares to peek at the taller girl.

And… all she sees Elsa looking at her with soft eyes. Like Anna’s a painting. The sheer admiration, adoration, and joy that pours through the blonde’s gaze makes Anna feel as though she is being worshipped. It… it’s kind of nice, honestly.

Elsa holds the bag closer. Her shoulders rise a little; she looks like she wants to hug the cake. Looks like she wants to cry. Looks so in need of a hug. Seriously. Anna wants to close the gap between them and just hug the girl. _Ahh—_ when’s the last time she’s had an urge like this? Probably never, because although Anna loves hugs, there really are only so many people she can hug without it being weird.

“Would you…” Elsa starts, voice still barely audible.

Anna pictures herself as a fox, ears rising up high to hear Elsa more clearly.

The girl in question tries again, this time with resolve, “Would you like to stay and have this with me?”

Anna is far too familiar with the feeling of her heart hammering against her chest. This has been happening quite regularly whenever Elsa is in her presence. But it doesn’t undermine the feeling in any way. In fact, each time it happens, it just makes Anna that much more aware of how utterly and hopelessly fascinated she is with Elsa. A chemical reaction.

The corners of her lips arch upwards. Anna nods. “I would love to.”

* * *

The awkwardness between them is easily replaced with a lighter atmosphere—one that radiates warmth, comfort, security, and anything that relates to happiness. Anna watches fondly as Elsa takes out two plates from the cupboard above the stove, two forks, and a fruit knife (it’s the only knife large enough). As Elsa prepares the tea, Anna takes the cake out of the bag and places it nicely at the centre of the table. She’ll let the birthday girl do the unwrapping herself.

Elsa returns with two steaming cups of Earl Grey. She takes a seat in front of Anna, and when she sees the cake, her eyes light up. “Anna, the cake is adorable!”

She grins. “Go ahead and open it up!”

Elsa doesn’t suppress her smile as she tugs at the lavender ribbon that ties the transparent, plastic container together. She lifts the lid up and reveals the most adorably designed cake that Anna’s seen this store make since… uh, her own birthday? The cake is smothered in a dark chocolate sauce that has hardened over the top; assorted pieces of strawberries are placed beautifully atop white cream as decoration, and Anna knows that once the entire thing is cut open, there will be chocolate mousse and fluffy chocolate sponge cake on the inside. This cake is the definition of chocolate decadence.

“I just kind of guessed what cake you liked. I figured that nobody can actually hate chocolate, so…”

“I love it,” Elsa says without hesitation. “I… I also love all things chocolate.”

Hearing that, Anna starts fiddling with her fingers on her lap, but quickly composes herself. “Oh, I, uh. I forgot to ask for candles,” she pauses. Because that’s the truth. She had absolutely _no idea_ today was the day. So much for having the perfect plan. Anna clears her throat and adds awkwardly, “… you wouldn’t happen to have candles, would you?”

Elsa chuckles, her voice bubbling sweetly in the space. “Unfortunately, no, I don’t,” she reaches for the knife. “I guess we should just skip the singing and get right to it? The cake looks delicious, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Anna laughs in response. “Aw, but you should still make a wish,” she taps at her chin, glancing around the room as if she'd find candles somewhere. Then, a thought comes to her. “Oh! Hold on a sec.” She grabs her phone and searches for a candle app. Literally. That's what she searches for. The thing downloads in less than a minute, fortunately— _can’t let the birthday girl wait too long!—_ and looks up at Elsa. “Here, um, you’re… turning twenty?” When she gets an enthusiastic nod from the girl, Anna grins. She sets the number of candles to twenty and holds it above the cake. “Okay, just blow into the microphone part when you’re ready.”

Another light chuckle. Elsa closes her eyes and clasps her hands together.

It's... _ah,_ Elsa's really cute, but that's already established. Just that each time she does something, Anna can't stop admiring her. And then she starts thinking about a lot of things too; for example, right now, she can’t help but to wonder what wish Elsa would make. The blonde looks so concentrated; she resembles a little girl who is, coincidentally, making a wish on her birthday. Yes, that’s it. Elsa is adorable like that. The fact that she takes birthday wishes so seriously—though, who is Anna to judge? She does this every year, despite being her seventeen-year-old self.

“Okay,” Elsa says. She blows into the phone as instructed, and all twenty of the virtual candles go off. When Anna puts her phone away, Elsa reaches for the knife. She looks so eager to cut the cake—and that, _also,_ is cute as hell.

But Anna stops her for good reason, “Here, let me. The birthday girl should never cut her own cake. Plus, this is my favourite part. I’d like to have you know that I am a certified-cake-cutter! C.C.C.!”

The blonde chuckles again, this time covering her mouth with a loose fist. She lets Anna take over and leans back in her seat.

It’s the most relaxed Anna’s seen her. The fact that Elsa is always so stiff and tensed—this is the first time she isn’t sitting like that. The blonde’s shoulders are slack, she looks at ease, _content_. Anna can’t help but to smile a little wider at the sight.

Elsa’s happiness truly is contagious.

She gives her the nicest piece, presents it like a master chef—having the single slice stand up with that perfect whipped cream and strawberry on top of it. Anna doesn’t put as much effort in cutting her own slice, but it’s presentable enough; she doesn’t want to ruin the shape of the whole cake.

“Help yourself, Elsa. Don’t hold back! I know your mouth is watering,” Anna says blithely.

Elsa gives her a playful glare and picks up her fork. “I can’t help it,” she cuts into the tip of the slice. Anna watches her fork glide smoothly through the mousse. Watches it go into Elsa’s mouth. Watches the silverware come out between her lips, appearing as immaculate as it was before it even touched the cake. Watches Elsa chew, watches her throat bob, _watches_.

“ _Mmm_.”

The moan sends a tingle down Anna’s spine. It shoots into her stomach, makes it flutter, and the sensation edges dangerously close to the centre of her legs and— _no._ Nope. Stop it, Anna. None of those sick thoughts. _You’re not a horny teenaged boy!_

“This is delicious. Thank you so much, Anna,” Elsa says.

Anna swallows. Brushes the thoughts away. “Oh, um, I—” she reaches for her backpack and takes out the present she’s spent a good amount of time wrapping. Since it is originally for Christmas, the wrapping paper is all red and green, but… _eh,_ whatever. Not like she had any birthday variations available. “I got you something,” she pushes the gift over to Elsa.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Elsa creases her eyebrows together. There she goes again. Looking apologetic and all. “You already got me the cake! I-I can’t take this—”

“Uh-uh, no take-backs,” Anna crosses her arms. “I’ve spent a long time looking for this, Elsa, so if you don’t take it, I’m going to be really angry!” she says jokingly.

Elsa thins her lips and eventually gives in.

“Come on, open it, open it!”

The blonde giggles to her excitement and does as instructed.

Anna would be lying if she said that she did not expect Elsa to be the type to open things neatly. She is the complete opposite of herself. Elsa even spends the time peeling the tape away so as to not rip the wrapping paper! Her dainty fingers work meticulously at any part that seems to be stuck, until finally, _finally,_ the white box. Elsa pauses to give the redhead an apprehensive look but quickly continues. She opens it up, and carefully, _very_ carefully, she takes out the gift. Anna helps by moving the things on the table aside, giving Elsa space to admire the snow globe. And, as she is sitting right in front of the other girl, she has a full view of Elsa’s reaction. Her chest rises, her mouth parts, _closes,_ she darts her eyes up at Anna, then back down at the trinket, and then her hands tremble as they come to touch it.

“This… Anna—it’s beautiful, I-I don’t know what to say…”

Oh boy, every time Elsa stutters like that, Anna’s heartbeat resounds in her ears. “It’s nothing much, really,” she tries to occupy herself by taking a few bites of the cake, munching on it as politely as possible no matter how much she wants to just shove her entire face into it. “It just reminded me so much of you, so I had to get it. Happy birthday,” she adds, covering her mouth with a palm.

The smile on Elsa is seemingly permanent. She holds the snow globe up, turns it over to let the little snow pieces drift in the sphere. “What’s this?” she starts turning the pin underneath the stand. “It plays music?”

“Oh, yeah,” Anna says. The familiar jingle plays, but she still can’t— _for the life of her—_ figure out what it is a melody of. She swears she’s heard it before. Anna glances at Elsa, and, to her confusion, sees the blonde looking astoundingly red. Like… like a tomato. “Elsa…?”

She jumps. “Yes?”

“Is everything okay?”

Elsa holds the snow globe close to her chest, almost hugging it. The tune continues to play, and that is all that can be heard. “I…” her voice comes out in a whisper, “… Anna.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you, um. Do you know this song?”

Anna’s eyelids flutter. “No, I’m,” she laughs, “ _really_ bad at remembering songs. I’ve heard of it, though. Sounds familiar.”

“Oh,” Elsa nods to herself. “I see.”

“Is… something wrong?”

“No! No, not at all,” she says, still holding onto the snow globe closely. “I-it's familiar to me as well. I really like it. Thank you for this, Anna. And the cake. A-and for coming here.”

The last statement makes Anna’s cheeks warm. She busies herself with the cake. “It’s no problem,” Anna says. She can easily follow up by saying that _she messed up and actually intended for this to be a Christmas surprise,_ but instead, she says, “I wanted to see you.”

A gasp. Anna isn’t even sure if it came from Elsa or herself. Probably both? Elsa is blushing madly by now, still holding onto her gift with a desperate grip. And Anna is just sitting stiff in her seat, looking at her half-devoured cake as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

But then the music to the snow globe slows to an end. Anna only hears the two of them breathing heavily.

Okay, she _has_ to say something. _Quick!_ Before all this breathing ironically suffocates them both!

“… B-because. Y’know,” Anna shrugs, “I won’t be seeing you until next term.”

Elsa breathes out a sound of amusement. “Next term is just two weeks away, Anna.”

“Yeah, but,” she doesn’t have any way to counter that, so she just chuckles. “Yeah.”

Elsa, likewise, chuckles with her, and the warmth of their laughter fills the room.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon goes by as quickly as one of their math lessons together. Except the concept of time isn’t truly relative whenever Anna is with Elsa. It just flashes by—goes missing, like a trace of her childhood memory. Anna ponders to herself whether Elsa is a sorceress who controls time, because she sure as hell can make four hours seem like five minutes.

Granted, the several minutes in which Elsa lectured her about skipping class felt slightly longer, but. That’s not the point.

The point is, it is now five and she should really be heading home soon.

“I’ll drive you down,” Elsa offers.

“Wait, you don't have to! I-I don't want to be in the way of any plans you have for tonight,” the forethought of Elsa celebrating with either her parents or friends lingers on her mind.

But the girl just shakes her head. “No plans for the night,” she says with a forced smile and grabs her phone and car keys on the counter. “Come on.”

“But…” a bunch of ideas pop up in her head. She can text her mom and tell her that it’s Elsa’s birthday so that she can prepare food and they can eat together. But that’s really weird, right? It would probably end up scaring Elsa away. And if she did that, her mom—no, her _dad_ would most definitely tease her about all the efforts that she’s pulled for this girl. _Ugh,_ she wouldn’t want that. Oh! Maybe they can just head out to eat together? Find a nice restaurant in the city and dine in. Yes, that’s it. “Elsa—”

“Oh, Anna…”

She blinks. It’s not often Elsa would cut her off. She walks up to the taller girl and sees that she is looking at her phone. “Hm? What is it?”

“I just got an emergency notification from the university,”

Anna blinks again.

“There’s a snowstorm and…” Elsa turns around to look out the window.

Anna does the same and sees that it is completely white outside. It looks like a blizzard.

“… I think they’ve shut down all the roads that go down the mountain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for your feedback! 
> 
> I think that i'm good with my replies, but if i missed you, it doesn't mean i hate you or anything -- it just means i've actually missed it!


	6. Chapter 6

What follows after is a lot of calling and texting on Anna’s part, and she sees Elsa simultaneously checking her phone (possibly for new updates) and the refrigerator (to ensure that there’s enough food for two).

Her parents aren’t picking up, obviously, because they’re at work—probably stuck at their respective firms. She’s left them a few messages informing them of the situation and guarantees that they will not worry for her. After all, she is with _Elsa,_ she thinks with an eye-roll. Her friends have actually told her a few hours ago that school’s cancelled because of the snowfall warning. All students were sent home early, and if she had checked her phone earlier, she would’ve known, and she likely would’ve been down the mountain by now.

Most importantly, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

And… she wouldn’t be causing Elsa all this trouble.

“There’s a small supermarket near the dorm,” Elsa suddenly says, her eyes still fixed on her phone. Anna sees her scrolling through it profusely. “In this weather, it’ll probably take us longer to get there, but no longer than ten minutes. Ah, I’m pretty sure it’ll be filled with people… I hope there’s still enough food in stock. In any case, we should hurry.”

She sees the older girl talking to herself at this point. Like she’s just brainstorming for ideas out loud, pursing her lips in worry, thin eyebrows narrowed. And, seriously, what else can Anna do than to feel bad?

“Elsa, I…”

The aforementioned look of worry completely disappears when Elsa looks up.

But Anna continues, “I’m so sorry, Elsa. If I hadn’t shown up—”

“Anna,” Elsa starts softly. She makes her way towards the redhead, who is staying absolutely still. “I can also tell you how sorry I am for making you stay,”

She blinks. _No._ No, that wasn’t her fault; Anna wanted to stay. It was her choice to come up here! What is Elsa talking about? No, she’s wrong. “No—”

“But you would just end up saying how wrong I am, just as how I would tell you how wrong you are for blaming it all on yourself,” she finishes, pink lips arching upwards.

Well, Anna doesn’t have a retort for that. So, instead, she just sighs. Elsa’s surprisingly good at arguing. Actually, the argument ended before it can even begin. Is it still an argument, then? _Eh, whatever,_ Anna mentally shrugs.

“Have you been able to reach your parents?”

Anna smiles because she’s impressed by how responsible Elsa is, but it also came out as a scoff because it’s _expected_ that she’s like this. “Nah, it reached their voicemail. I’ve left them a message. I don’t think they’ll be worrying with you taking care of me.”

Somebody’s breath hitches.

 _Ugh. Again._ Anna’s spurring nonsensical stuff. Come on, save it. Do something!

“I mean,” her eyes spin in their sockets as her brain searches for the next few words, “I am the younger one. I’m also super high maintenance.”

At that, Elsa giggles. Man, Anna will never tire of that sound.

“Is that so?” she asks.

“Mhmm,” Anna nods. “But, um. Enough about me. Should we head down before the store gets swept clean?”

“Yes, we definitely should,” Elsa says. “Stay close when we’re out there, okay?”

She clucks her tongue. At the back of her head, she pictures Elsa getting blown away by the storm. This girl is thin as a stick! She doesn’t look like she can withstand the weakest shove from… from a _child!_ If anything, Elsa should hold onto Anna for a bit of stability.

But.

No more being weird.

She’ll be a good girl, stay quiet, and listen to the older of the two.

* * *

Well, turns out it wasn’t that bad. The supermarket wasn’t filled with that many people. Anna was expecting it to be a full-on pandemic. Y’know, where people would be fighting for toilet paper and such? Wouldn’t that be something. Anyway, the two salvaged enough food that would last for several days. Anna’s even gotten herself a towel and a toothbrush because there is no way she is going down the mountain until they call off this stupid snowstorm warning.

Which spawns another problem.

“Nah-uh,” Anna crosses her arms, disagreeing vehemently. “I am _not_ about to let you sleep on the couch. I’m the one who showed up, thus getting myself into this mess in the first place. Plus, you didn’t let me help you cook! _You_ cooked, and I’m just… I just watched, and now I’m eating! Come on, Elsa. Please? Please, please, _please_ let me sleep on the couch?”

“As the host,” Elsa says, poking at the braised pork ribs that she’s made, “I have the right to tell my guests where to sleep.”

Anna purses her lips. She narrows her eyes to think of a way around this. “Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back. You’re older than me, so…”

“Aw,” Elsa chuckles, “But I do a lot of yoga, so my back is pretty good, thank you very much.”

 _Ugh._ That didn’t work. So she tries again, “The birthday girl shouldn’t have to sleep so uncomfortably on her birthday.”

“The birthday girl’s wish is to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Wha— _come on_ , that’s the worst wish I’ve ever heard of!”

“Are you questioning the birthday girl?”

“I—well,” Anna starts, but has no response. She huffs and sinks lower into her seat. Yep, okay, nope. She’s not winning. Verbally. “Alright, fine,” so she’ll try something else—without Elsa’s knowing, of course. “You win. I’ll take the bed.”

Elsa beams at the redhead. “That’s what I thought.”

Anna rolls her eyes, but chuckles lightly to how smug the other girl looks. Yet another side of Elsa, yet another opportunity for Anna to be fascinated. Speaking of another side, Elsa can _freaking_ cook. Like. Professionally. Anna has long finished her serving—has had seconds, _thirds,_ and is currently holding back from asking for fourths. But can she help it? The flavours bursting out of that braised pork shot her taste buds straight out of the world; it nearly brought tears to her eyes! Even her mother’s best cooking can’t do that. The way the meat just melts in her mouth, the zest of the lime juice matching so well with the kick of the black pepper. The most amazing thing is that Elsa can make something as heavy as pork so endlessly delicious. Usually, when she eats so much meat, she just feels bloated, but this— _nah,_ not this. Just. Ugh. She can’t. Anna really can’t resist.

“Do you want more?” Elsa asks with a knowing smile, as if reading Anna’s mind.

“O-oh, no. I’m fine,” Anna lies, rubbing her stomach for emphasis. “I’d like to save the rest for lunch tomorrow, thank you.”

“There’s still plenty,” Elsa laughs lightly. “Don’t hold back. I can make more if anything.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Really.” Anna sits up straighter. _It’s unbecoming to slouch_ , a voice that sounds suspiciously like her mother’s echoes in her head. Anna shakes it away. “So, um. I am about two-hundred-percent sure that you will reject my offer, but I’m going to ask anyway. Will you let me help with the dishes?”

“Nope,” is the instant reply.

Anna flings her hand. “Of course.”

Elsa laughs again, standing to gather the emptied dishes. “But you can help select something to watch on Netflix. I don’t think you’d want to go to sleep immediately after dinner.”

“Ew, no, that’s gross.”

_Wait._

Elsa wants to watch something on Netflix… s-she wants to watch something _together!_ Anna pinches her thigh under the table to contain her excitement.

“Okay,” she says. “What do you feel like watching?”

“Anything is okay. I don’t really have anything I don’t like.”

Anna moves over to the couch and taps away at the remote. On the Netflix homepage, she notices three profiles other than Elsa’s. There’s Baymax, Wasabi, and Gogo. Huh. What odd names. Probably Elsa’s friends. She shrugs the thought away and selects Elsa’s profile. The recommended shows several psychological thrillers, some comedies, science fiction, and even tragedy. Man, Elsa wasn’t lying when she said that she doesn’t have anything she doesn’t like.

Anna takes a moment to glance over at the girl, whose back is against her. And then she feels it—a sort of contentment, happiness. Despite the fact that the storm is raging outside, there’s this warmth to the atmosphere that she’s in. It’s because of the heat in the room, yeah, thank goodness, but there’s something else. Anna feels safe, at ease, comfortable. The warmth comes from the inside out; it’s like the steady pounding of her chest is working to spread said warmth all over her body. It makes her feel all fuzzy. She thinks the closest word that can describe this feeling is domesticity.

And she got all that just by looking at Elsa.

How nice would it be if the two of them can remain this way? Where the two of them can constantly banter about the chores. Or they can agree on taking turns. That would be nice. Eventually, when they finish dinner, they can sit together to watch a movie, talk about the day, just anything, really. Even if it’s nothing exciting, even if it’s simple, Anna thinks that as long as she’s with Elsa, she will be content.

The blonde eventually finishes with the dishes and comes over with two mugs—the same two that she’s used in their lesson the last time Anna came here. Blue for Elsa, purple for Anna.

“Still choosing?” Elsa asks, placing the mugs down at the coffee table in front of the couch.

“I’m super indecisive. I can spend hours browsing through the library,” Anna hands the remote over to Elsa. “How about you decide?”

She smiles. “Okay,” and she takes a seat next to Anna.

Anna, on her end, laments on the fact that the couch isn’t small enough for them to sit closer. She mentally scoffs at the tiny _inch_ of space that separates their thighs.

* * *

They take turns using the shower. Anna takes advantage of Elsa’s courteousness and gladly accepts going in first. She tries her absolute _hardest_ to ignore the fact that she’s using Elsa’s underwear (because where the hell is she going to find spares up here on the North Mountain?!); she tries not to notice the angry flush on Elsa’s cheeks when the girl hands the little piece of undergarment to her, and when Anna’s done with the shower, she slips it on at lightning speed (along with Elsa’s t-shirt and shorts for sleepwear) so that she doesn’t even have to look at it.

When they swap, Anna sets her plan in motion. She sees that Elsa’s already made her bed, changing the sheets to fresh ones just for Anna. _Well, of course Elsa would,_ she thinks. Anna sees a blanket neatly folded on the couch; presumably, this is all Elsa’s using for the night.

Alright. That’s just atrocious. 

Anna huffs. She heads over to the couch, wraps herself up snugly in the blanket, and a scent of lavender— _Elsa’s smell—_ overwhelms her. Anna takes a deep breath and realizes that the smell makes her dizzy. Makes her want to close her eyes and. Just. _Breathe._ It’s so comforting, she can fall asleep right here, right now. But. _Okay,_ don’t get distracted. Anna clears her throat and jumps onto the couch; the leather scrunches loudly at her weight and she shifts around until she finds a comfortable position. Honestly, the couch isn’t so bad, but it definitely isn’t as optimal as a bed, which is why she isn’t going to let Elsa take this. And she is sure as hell going to put up a legit fight this time.

In the meanwhile, she manages to reach her parents. As she predicted, they literally don’t care. Well, that’s an exaggeration; the correct way to put this is that yes, they’re relieved she’s safe, but when Anna tells them that she is with Elsa, their response is a simple _“oh”._ She hears her mother telling her to _be good_ (Anna hears the smile behind her words), and then her father takes over the phone to tell her to _make smart choices._ Whatever that means. The funniest part is that neither her mother nor her father had the intention to lecture her when she confessed that she skipped class to see Elsa.

Perks of being a straight-A student, she guesses.

Rapunzel and Mulan over on _Operation HAUWE—_ which she still thinks is a god-awful name, by the way—are nonstop spamming her, asking for updates. The usual stuff. Rapunzel and her ‘ _did you do it yet?’_ And Mulan with her more subtle ‘ _how’s everything?’_ She answers them with a boring ‘ _nothing’s happening, shut up’,_ and that’s that.

She hears a click—Elsa’s out of the bathroom. Anna is certain that her occupying the couch is going to get Elsa angry, and she’s fully prepared to face yet another lecture, but then she sees her. She sees _Elsa._ Anna’s breath hitches. _Ahh, shit_. She’s forgotten that with every new side of Elsa that she sees, she would experience the same, yet different sense of astonishment. It’s like when a child is offered the same candy. They know it’s just the taste of sweetness, but they never get tired of it.

And right now, Anna is in no way tired of Elsa’s look. She has her hair tied up in a high bun, and Anna realizes Elsa can seriously rock any hairstyle. And then she’s wearing white short shorts. Okay. She’s wearing _short shorts_ that go up to her upper thighs. Then there’s her t-shirt. Elsa’s flowy, silky, light blue t-shirt. Anna needs to talk about it. The collar is so loose, it reveals the entirety of her clavicle. Pause for a minute and just _look at her collarbones!_ They’re so defined and well-structured and _smooth and—_

“Anna!”

Wait, what was she doing? Oh, right.

“Why are you—I told you to take the bed!”

Anna sticks out her tongue. “Nope.”

Elsa pouts, placing her hands on her hips. 

_So cute._ Anna’s eyes wander lower. _Ooh, nice hips._ But then they immediately shoot back up to Elsa’s face. “I’m not moving.”

Elsa walks forward, her expression stern. In a not-so-serious way, of course. “Oh, really?”

But it makes Anna’s mouth dry, nonetheless. Mostly because she’s still distracted by Elsa’s skin. And so much of it. Her long, creamy legs. Her skinny yet toned arms. That slender neck. Still, Anna is adamant. Have to stop getting distracted, _stick with the mission!_ “I am a cocoon,” Anna says robotically, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.

Elsa takes another step closer. “Is that so?” She is now standing directly above the redhead.

Anna swallows. “Mhmm. You can’t bother me when I am in the middle of my metamorphosis.”

“Oh, but I think I can,” she says in a menacing voice.

Anna blinks.

Without warning, Elsa grabs onto the blanket, tugging it with force. She’s trying to take it away from Anna! The redhead, in retaliation, holds onto it tighter. She did not anticipate how strong the blonde was going to be, but, come on, she didn’t come this far to lose to Elsa _again!_

And seeing how no matter how hard she pulls, Anna isn’t letting go, Elsa’s expression scrunches into slight frustration. Then, slowly, _gradually,_ it warps into yet another smug look.

It actually makes a shiver run down Anna’s spine. “W-why do you look like you’re about to commit a crime?” she squeaks.

The blonde’s smile widens.

Uh-oh. Is this the part where Elsa murders her?

Close. Because—

“W-whoa— _hey!”_ Anna breaks into a fit of giggles. She squirms, body struggling to escape from Elsa’s touch. The blonde is _tickling_ her! That’s just cheating! Tickles are, like, her number one weakness! The nerve of this girl…! “Stop! _Ahh!_ Elsa!” she laughs uncontrollably. Tangled in her own ‘cocoon’, she isn’t getting out of this.

“I’ll stop if you move to the bed,” Elsa says, voice masked with giggles of her own.

“No! I’m not moving. You’re just gonna have to—ahh!” she’s cut off when Elsa tickles her sides. Anna’s laughing so hard by now that tears are coming out of her eyes. This isn’t looking good. She’s about to give in. She really, _really_ can’t stand tickles. It’s like capital punishment! Torture! _Crucio!_ But _nononono._

Elsa is _not_ winning.

A burst of adrenaline pulses through her veins; Anna breaks out of the cocoon—the force momentarily catches Elsa off-guard, and Anna smirks. In that hint of a second, she sees the shock in the blonde’s face and Anna just _pounces,_ fingers running relentlessly along the girl’s sides.

Elsa squeaks—the suddenness makes her lose her balance, and she falls right on top of Anna. But Anna isn’t stopping. Oh, this has gotten personal. The smirk grows into a full-on grin and Anna tickles harder, where her fingers practically wriggle all over Elsa’s sides.

“W-wait…!” The blonde cries, laughing just as uncontrollably.

The grin on Anna is permanent. Elsa is even more sensitive than herself, as the girl has abandoned her objective, now just writhing helplessly on top of Anna, gripping desperately onto the latter’s shirt for some sort of leverage. Her face is buried in Anna’s neck, voice vibrating against the redhead’s skin as she laughs, and their legs are tangled.

Their giggles fill the room; Anna continues tickling, until finally, Elsa speaks up, “Okay! Okay, stop! I give up!”

Anna chuckles triumphantly. “That’s what _I_ thought,” she says, mimicking Elsa’s words from earlier.

Elsa sighs in defeat, “Oh, Anna,” she pulls back to support herself on her elbows. “You’re such a…” but then she stops.

_Gulp._

Because it is then the two become aware of how close they are. How close they have been, all this time. Anna’s senses, just as well, become heightened. She feels everything. Like Elsa’s curves against her own. The skin of their legs touching. Elsa’s grip on her shoulders. _Everything._

They are so close; their minty breaths mingle in the warmth of the small space between them and Anna can’t take her eyes off Elsa’s. Because in this meager distance, Anna is reminded once again that Elsa’s eyes aren’t so much cerulean. There are traces of cobalt, azure, sapphire. Any of the deep, crystal blue colours. It truly is mesmerizing. It’s like looking into a glacier hidden in the depths of a mythological haven. It’s unreal. And Elsa’s freckles—they help define the naturalness in her beauty so much. They’re faint, not as prominent as Anna’s own, but they’re there to make the blonde’s eyes stand out. Anna wants so much to reach up and touch them. Brush her fingers across Elsa’s smooth skin. To feel her soft cheeks. To maybe— _just maybe—_ touch those parted, cherry-pink lips.

Anna realizes that her own lips are parted.

Silently, she looks up. Teal clashes with blue; their eyes meet once more. Elsa is blushing furiously, Anna can tell that much, and she’s sure as hell that she looks the same right now. But she doesn’t care anymore. Elsa’s grip on her shirt tenses a little, and Anna takes that as her cue. She leans up, eyes boring into Elsa’s to ensure that she has the permission—to ensure that Elsa herself wants this.

And Elsa, likewise, doesn’t look away. She stays still, as if waiting for Anna to come to her.

Anna thinks she’s hyperventilating. Her throat is dry, her lungs are on fire, and she is _this close_ to passing out. For a moment, for a _hint_ of a second, her eyes dart away—downwards—where she sees Elsa’s loose shirt hanging and… _and…!_

“Ow!”

“Unnf!”

They simultaneously reach for their foreheads. Anna has made a sudden move and has knocked herself against Elsa. Her world spins, but not because of the impact; rather, it’s because she’s seen something she most definitely has no permission to see and— _god,_ no, no, no! That’s rude! Stop thinking about it! Stop thinking about how Elsa isn’t wearing a bra and Anna totally saw her boobs and Elsa is lying on top of her and that they were almost going to kiss _but then Anna had to ruin it and arghhhh!_

“I-I’m so sorry!” Anna quickly apologizes and sits upright. Elsa moves accordingly, backing away to give the redhead room to move.

“It… it’s okay,” Elsa says with a soft voice. She rubs at her forehead, wincing in slight pain.

Anna has every intention to reach over to inspect the injury, if there is any, but then she sees that large collar again, now sloped off to the side, revealing the span of Elsa’s round, pale shoulder. Instead, she shirks back, clenching onto her hands as if afraid that they’d move on their own will. “Sorry, Elsa. I’m… I’ve caused you so much trouble.”

Elsa shakes her head. “Please don’t say that,” she says, sitting up right as well. “Please don’t think that way, Anna. You’ve done nothing wrong. I… I’m happy that you came today. Truly, I am.”

She glances at the blonde. The soft, elegant smile that graces her features never ceases to help loosen Anna up. And so she smiles back. “You’re just happy that you got to eat the best chocolate cake in the world,” she jokes.

“Well, that is true,” Elsa chuckles. Then, to Anna’s surprise, she reaches over, soft fingertips grazing the back of Anna’s hand. “But I’m more so happy that you are the one to deliver it.”

“Oh,” Anna says, barely in a whisper. She has long given up resisting to grin like an idiot. The fact that her cheeks are about a few million degrees hotter than normal doesn’t bother her either. All she knows is that she has an undying need to turn her hand, to let Elsa’s fingers touch her palm, to wrap their hands together.

And she does just that.

All the while looking straight into Elsa’s eyes.

It’s a gradual process, but Anna sees the pinkness on the blonde’s cheeks darken. It’s so beautiful. It makes her feel so warm. I-it makes her want to _melt._

“Elsa,” she hears herself say.

“Hm?” The blonde responds.

“I…” _want to just sit here and look at you. Want to be with you. Want to kiss you._ There are so many things that Anna wants to say. But she really is an idiot and tends to have trouble articulating herself when nervous, so what comes out instead is, “I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

Hearing that, Elsa just _explodes._ Like. The speed in which her pink cheeks turn crimson is shock-inducing. It’s instant. Like a car crash. “Ah—I… um…!”

Anna quickly catches on, however, because she would have to be a complete joke to not realize how wrong that came out. “I-I mean! I mean I’m not tired yet and I was wondering if you want to watch a movie because it’s not like your hair is dry and it’s bad to sleep with wet hair and I’m still so awake and—”she pauses to take a deep breath. _Okay._ Stop this nonsense, _Anna!_ “W-what I really mean to say is… d-do you want to watch a movie.” She sighs. “Yeah. Do you want to watch a movie?”

God. She can’t even look up at Elsa anymore. That has got to be the most embarrassing thing she’s done in front of the blonde thus far. And she’s done _a lot_ of embarrassing things. This easily tops everything.

“Yes,” Elsa answers. She reaches for the remote and turns the TV on. Anna notices that her hand is trembling. In response, the hand that is still holding onto Elsa’s tightens a little, so as to reassure her. The sudden movement makes Elsa jump. It’s subtle, but Anna notices it. But then Elsa reciprocates. As in, she, too, holds onto Anna’s hand.

If Anna remembers correctly, there are about four litres of blood in the average female body. And just now, when Elsa’s grip on her hand tensed a little, she thinks all that blood has shot straight to her head, because— _wow._ Her brain must have been flooded with blood (even though she’s pretty sure it doesn’t work that way). Point is, she is _this close_ to passing out. B-but a part of her still wants to look at the blonde. Is this affecting Elsa as much as it is affecting herself? God, she wants to know. Anna turns a little. Just a glimpse is enough.

_Oh, goodness._

Not like she’s making assumptions or anything, but this is totally not just her. Elsa’s face is absolutely red. Tomato. Crimson. Her shoulders are up to her ears, and Anna realizes that Elsa is like this whenever she is nervous.

Except, right now, Elsa is smiling. The corners of her lips are tugging upwards. And, like. It’s. Elsa’s so _._ Freaking _. Cute._ All smiley and embarrassed and shy and _ugh._

Anna bites back a giggle. She can barely contain her excitement, knowing that they’re still holding hands and that there is no more space between them.

* * *

So apparently, the gods above are pissed off about something. There is no end to the snowstorm, and it appears that most of the city has completely shut down. Her parents can’t get to work, school is still cancelled, and, of course, there is no way for her to get down the mountain. Not like it really bothers her, but it certainly makes her feel bad about occupying Elsa’s space, no matter how much the blonde says that it’s not a problem.

They spend most of their time binging through TV shows or watching movies. Anna may have fallen asleep a few times in the middle of several episodes, but it’s not because they’re boring or anything. Actually, she isn’t even the type to nap. It’s just that Elsa’s room is so warm and she’s had so many cups of hot chocolate that she’s completely in the mood for hibernation and. Just. _Sigh._ Yeah, no more excuses. She’s just turning into a pig.

And that’s not cool at all. Coach Adam is so going to kill her if she doesn’t keep her health in check.

She would totally work out if she weren’t in Elsa’s clothing. No way she’s sweating in these. That’s just rude. This is Elsa’s NMU hoodie! And her shorts! Anna’s got to treat these with utmost care. So what can she do instead? Hm, decisions, _decisions—_

“Anna?”

She jumps. “Yes?”

“You seem distracted. Is the movie not to your liking?” Elsa asks with concern.

“Oh, no, no. I’m not distracted, I’m just…” restless. Really, that’s the only thing on her mind, “… I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong.”

The blonde gives her this worried look, and then she takes out her phone. “It really is unfortunate I don’t have anything other than a TV in here to pass the time…”

“Hey, come on,” Anna says, placing a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “It’s okay. At least we have shelter and aren’t stuck out there in the cold.”

Elsa chews at her lower lip as she avoids Anna’s eyes. “You’re right,” she pauses, looking at her phone again to open up a chat of some sort. “But, um. I-if you want, we can go to a party tomorrow.”

“Party?”

Elsa nods. “It’s hosted by a few students from my faculty. They do it every year—it’s mainly for those who don’t go home during the holidays. Which, usually isn’t many, but because of the snowstorm this year, I think it’s going to be a bit more crowded than usual.”

Several things come to Anna’s mind when she hears this. So, she responds, “Do you go to them?”

She shakes her head. “I went during my first year, but I skipped the next. I came down with a fever, so I couldn’t go.”

 _Okay,_ just as she thought. Elsa’s careful with her wording, but it appears that for the past three years, she hasn’t gone home. So… every Christmas, every _birthday,_ she’s been spending it alone? Well, she certainly hopes that someone knows about her birthday, at the very least. But, _ah,_ no. If people knew of her birthday, Elsa would’ve gotten more visits yesterday, no? The more Anna thinks about it, the more her heart aches. 

Anna scoots closer. “Do you want to go?” she asks softly.

“I don’t really mind,” Elsa says. “Anything that you’d like.”

Anna tries to analyze Elsa’s thoughts. Considering how they’re going to be trapped here indefinitely, it’ll be a while before they can interact with people. Well, they do have each other, but Anna knows that she can get quite annoying at times. Perhaps it’s best to have Elsa go out and meet up with her friends? Maybe Elsa wants a break from babysitting? Yes, that’s best for her. Elsa will want this.

“Okay,” Anna says. “Let’s go. Where is it going to be?”

Elsa smiles. “Just the top floor of this building. It’s a suite for studying purposes, but they usually turn it into a party room during special occasions.”

“Alright, then,” Anna returns Elsa’s smile with one of her own. “I’ll be borrowing this hoodie to fit in.”

The blonde chuckles. “Don’t worry about fitting in. Most of the people are really nice; they won’t judge even if you’re a high school student.”

“Oh,” Anna purses her lips. “But I’m still wearing this tomorrow.”

Elsa’s smile widens. She places her hand over Anna’s on her shoulder. “Anything that you’d like.”

* * *

Christmas Eve night arrives, and Anna stays close to Elsa as they reach the suite. The booming music can be heard—can be _felt—_ all the way down on the fifth floor, so when they arrive on the actual floor, it isn’t surprising to feel a bit unsteady with all that sound blowing in her face.

“You okay?” Elsa asks, speaking in a voice louder than usual so that Anna can hear.

She nods. This isn’t that overwhelming. Anna’s been to several house parties that are similar to ones like this, except high school students are way rowdier, louder, and messier. This, in comparison, is rather tamed. There are about thirty-ish people here; some have occupied the sofas at the lounge, some are on the impromptu dance floor, some are actually outside on the balcony (and while Anna may be innocent, she knows that those guys are out there smoking weed), and others have gathered at the bar, filling their cups with drinks.

Speaking of, Anna thinks if there’s anything other than alcohol that’s being served here. She is a minor, after all.

“Elsa!” a voice suddenly catches their attention.

Anna sees a boy around Elsa’s age approaching. He has a baseball cap on, has dark hair, and has a lean figure. Pretty handsome, actually.

“Tadashi,” Elsa beside her greets. “I thought you headed down the mountain?”

“Nah,” the boy by the name of Tadashi says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “The plan was to wait for our aunt to pick us up yesterday, but… y’know. Blizzard and all.”

“Ah,” Elsa nods knowingly.

“Who’s this, by the way?” Tadashi gestures to the redhead with a curious smile. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone to these things.”

“This is Anna, she’s…” Elsa looks to the shorter girl, “… my friend. She came to visit two days ago, right when the snowstorm hit. It’s bad luck really. Now she’s trapped with us up here.”

“Oof, that blows,” Tadashi grimaces. He reaches out a hand, “I’m Tadashi, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Anna takes his hand with a smile. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Wait,” Elsa suddenly starts. “If you’re here, then does this mean—”

“Elsa? ELSA!” another voice. Anna reacts the quickest and turns to it.

A boy. A freaking _boy_ who is like, what, eleven? Twelve? Whatever—a _boy_ is running straight towards her and Anna braces herself, bringing her arms up in a fighting stance to fend for herself.

But the kid totally ignores her and nearly shoves her to the side to stand next to Elsa.

Hold on, _what?!_

Anna blinks herself back to her senses. Did she just get shoved by a nine-year-old _boy?!_

“Elsa! You’re here!” the kid, whose hair resembles a messy black mop, greets Elsa with the goofiest grin.

And Anna can tell with just one look. It’s so obvious. This kid has the most glaring crush on Elsa. Look at him. All jumpy and excited and self-indulgent. Who does he think he is? Being all friendly and stuff with Elsa. Does he get the chance to wear Elsa’s hoodie? _No._ Does he get to sleep in Elsa’s clothes? _No._ Does he get to try Elsa’s food?! _No!_ Actually, she doesn’t know, but… the _point is!_

This kid’s got to know his place.

Anna doesn’t even know that she’s bearing the most aggressive frown until she hears Elsa giggling. When she turns to the blonde, she sees the girl looking at her, smiling knowingly, hiding her lips behind dainty fingertips.

But then Elsa turns her attention to the boy. “Hello, Hiro,” she greets kindly.

“Hey, genius, it’s rude to push people like that,” Tadashi crosses his arms. “Go apologize to Anna right now.”

“Huh?” the boy, or Hiro _—whatever_ —looks around, all confused. “Who did I push?”

Tadashi rolls his eyes. He grabs onto the kid’s shoulders and turns him towards the redhead.

Hiro’s eyelids flutter, as if the sight of Anna has given him even more confusion. “Uhh, sorry?”

Anna would say that _it’s okay,_ but his tone! This kid is a tad aggravating, isn’t he? But. Anna is older. She’s the bigger person. She’ll let it go. “It’s okay,” she says.

Not a second later, Hiro has turned back to Elsa. As if speaking to Anna is just some kind of nonessential task that he can’t wait to get over with. Wow. What a guy. “You’re stuck up here as well?” he asks the blonde.

“Unfortunately,” Elsa sighs.

Hiro grins. Anna tries not to think how silly he looks with his large front teeth. “You should come hang out with us more! We’re at Wasabi’s room most of the time. He has this sweet seventy-inch TV screen where we can play video games on! It’s better than being alone.”

“Thank you for the offer, Hiro,” the blonde laughs. “But I’m not so much of a gamer. Besides,” she takes a step closer to Anna. So close that their arms touch. “I have Anna with me. She can be quite entertaining too, so I won’t ever have to worry about being alone.”

To say that she’s touched would be an understatement. Anna can cry hearing those words. Is Elsa saying it because it’s true? Or is she saying it to make Anna feel better (because she is so obviously ticked off by Hiro)? Doesn’t matter. All Anna knows is that she can’t stop grinning. The loud, house remix of some song in the background pounds in her ears, and it should be annoying her—she hates bad remixes—but Anna finds the moment to be soothing. So as long as Elsa’s here, it’s fine. It’s zen.

“Ooookay,” Tadashi clasps his hands together. “Let’s break the monotony, shall we? How ‘bout a game of beer pong?”

“Beer pong?” Anna blinks. “Um. I’m… I don’t think I can. I’m only seventeen, I can’t—”

“You scared?” Hiro cuts her off, smirking. “I’m only fourteen, and I am not about to chicken out on this.”

Like. _Okay._ Anna is not at all a competitive person. No, that’s a lie. She is quite competitive, but only when it’s necessary. Like when she’s up against some rival team in basketball, or when she’s trying to prove a point. And right now, the situation is drawing quite close to the latter purpose. Fine then, _kid._ If he wants to play— “Okay,” she says with brows furrowed, “Let’s play.”

Hiro’s smirk becomes taunting. “Tadashi, you’re drinking for me.” He says without breaking eye contact with Anna.

“Uh huh,” Tadashi deadpans. “Unless you have another sibling around who can take responsibility for you, then I don’t think I really have a choice.”

 _Ah,_ so they’re siblings. Oh, wait, who’s going to…? Anna turns to Elsa.

The blonde is all smiles. She has her arms crossed loosely and is looking so relaxed. “I can drink for you,” she says it like she has absolute faith in Anna.

“But I…”

“You can do it,” Elsa places a palm behind Anna’s back. She comes closer to speak directly into the redhead’s ear, “You’re MVP.”

The closeness makes her spine tingle. But Anna quickly regains focus. “Yeah, but… basketball and beer pong are two different things…”

“It’ll be fine,” Elsa says. “I trust you.”

The sheer confidence that Elsa has in her is quite touching, and so with a new sense of purpose, Anna’s gaze sharpens. She turns to the kid and cracks the knuckles on her right hand with just her thumb—a sort of habit that she tends to do when she’s prepared for some major event. She recalls doing this just before confronting Thirty-Seven when she indirectly hurt Elsa.

And there is no way she is letting Hiro win, which, in turn, would force Elsa to drink, thereby indirectly hurting her. No way. Anna isn’t letting it happen.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fr how hard am i blueballing you guys? :p


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: drug use. I also don’t know how this became 8k words long but hey, hApPy ReAdInG

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” the audience around her chant. Anna watches intently, anxiously, as she sees the red plastic cup raise higher and higher, and she feels herself sweating as Elsa’s throat bobs.

God, this is the eighth cup. And although the beer isn’t filled completely to the rim for each cup, it’s still a lot. Well, Anna thinks it’s a lot. She doesn’t drink much— _at all—_ she justifies. But if she could, she would gladly be Elsa’s dark knight and take the drinks for her. Because look at her! Elsa’s cheeks are long flushed from all those drinks. This is like the third round; that damn Hiro kid is surprisingly good for his size, as he has pretty much made every single shot. If Anna had to calculate, she would say that Elsa’s probably had… around three beers? The same can be said about Tadashi, but he’s like. Completely okay. See, he’s all relaxed and calm and stuff!

So although the games are tied, Anna thinks she is at a disadvantage.

“You okay?” Anna asks when Elsa puts down the emptied cup, placing her hand on the small of the blonde’s back.

She nods. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just two more cups and we’ll have this round,” Elsa smiles. “You can do it, Anna.”

But Anna isn’t convinced. Elsa isn’t slurring or anything, but she definitely looks a bit tipsy. She can tell from Elsa’s cheerier tone. Anna sighs and turns back to Hiro. “Alright, last game. I’m not going to spend my entire Christmas Eve playing beer pong with a kid.”

“What,” he smirks, tossing the ping pong ball in his hand. “Afraid you’d lose?”

Anna just frowns. “For your information, we’ve been pretty tied since the beginning, and I really see no point in continuing when we’re not the ones facing the consequences.”

“Ooh, I like her,” Tadashi says in the background, nodding to himself.

“Wha—Tadashi! You’re on my team!” Hiro growls.

“Yeah, but are you looking out for your own teammate?” He asks but immediately goes on when Hiro opens his mouth, “No. No you’re not. Just letting your brother die from alcohol poisoning.”

“You’ve had, what, two beers!”

“Four,” he corrects. “And the night is still young. I want to play other games, man. The rest of the squad is coming soon with more drinks. I gotta be ready for whatever Honey Lemon is mixing for us.”

“Unbelievable,” Hiro groans, turning his attention back to the table. “Fine, then, Anya. Let’s get this over with.”

“It’s _Anna_ ,” the redhead annunciates, furrowing her eyebrows to glare straight at the boy.

Hiro just shrugs.

Stupid, rude, overbearing, cocky, tiny pipsqueak.

Anna loves children. Seriously. Her first summer job last year was at a daycare. She longs for the days when she would go in in the mornings, where the kids would run up to hug her. She loves how they’re always happy and smiling and cute and cuddly, but she’d be hard pressed to know that when kids grow up to be Hiro’s age, they’d all be just as arrogant and annoying. _Ugh,_ she doesn’t want to hate kids because of this one bad experience! God!

“Uh, hello? It’s your turn, _Anna._ ”

She hates the way he says her name! Putting that pointless accent on it when it really is the simplest name to say in the world. Anna gnaws at her bottom lip and stands behind the table. Okay. Two cups left on the boys’ side. They’re kind of sparse, no bouncing, can’t risk spinning, so it has to be straight in. Anna does a pretend-throw, as if that would help her measure the distance or something. Doesn’t matter. She tosses the ball and— _surprise, surprise—_ it goes straight in.

A couple of cheers from the crowd, and Anna sees Elsa clapping her— _well,_ more like tapping her fingertips together excitedly. _So cute._ Anna gives the older girl a confident grin and returns for her second throw.

She only has to do the exact same thing. No biggie. As long as she makes this throw and Hiro doesn’t for their remaining two cups, then—

“Ah, my engineering buddies!”

—the voice startles her and Anna’s hand slips and…!

“Oh, no…” Hiro hums in a forced saddened voice—it makes him sound more patronizing than he already is. “What a miss.”

“Ah, damn, was that my fault?” the same voice says.

Anna turns her attention to the person. How dare he ruin her final move?! Now the freaking Hiro has a chance to catch up! _Ahh_ —Elsa’s going to have to drink an extra shot for losing the game, this is all this guy’s fault—

“Yes,” Anna says before she can stop herself.

“Eek, my apologies,” the person, who appears to be a tall and pretty good looking brunette, makes his way to Anna. He analyzes the battlefield (the table) while stroking his chin thoughtfully with his forefinger and thumb, and then he chuckles. “Jeez, Hiro, you’ve gotten good.”

Hiro, on the other end of the table, shrugs again. It’s what he ever does. Shrugging. Cocky kid. “Uh huh. I don’t need you to tell me, Eugene,” he says, and in a smooth transition (which Anna hates to admit), he tosses a ball into one cup, scores, immediately tosses another into the last cup, and scores again.

“Good job, buddy,” Tadashi says in the back. “Except I wouldn’t call that a fair win.”

“Alright, alright, it was my fault,” the guy called Eugene raises his arms up in surrender. He turns to the blonde, “Here, Elsa, I’ll take the shot for you, how ‘bout that?”

Elsa chuckles, shaking her head a little. “There’s no need, Eugene. I’m okay.”

Tadashi has already poured the drink in a shot glass. Anna sees how it is clear like water but can tell that it is much more menacing than it appears; hell, she can smell the alcohol contents from steps away.

“Nah, I can’t do that to you,” Eugene says, reaching for the drink in Tadashi’s hand. The latter, in turn, passes it to him. It’s quite coordinated, really. Anna likes to believe that they’re gentlemen enough to plot this out together. “Allow me,” Eugene takes a swig and downs the entire thing easily, but when he finishes, he sticks his tongue out in a grimace. “Blegh! _God!_ This is some nasty shit, dude. Where the hell did you get this?!”

“I dunno,” Tadashi shrugs. “Whatever’s available at the bar. We couldn’t exactly get the best quality considering how we’re stuck on a mountain. And watch your language, Eugene. My brother is here.”

“Meh,” Hiro rolls his eyes. “You curse at me every now and then. Stop pretending to be so righteous.”

Huh. These college kids sure are relaxed around a fourteen-year-old boy. A bit too relaxed. Anna’s more than a little confused as to how these people can stand Hiro. Everything he’s done so far is nothing short of arrogant; how can anybody even like the guy?! Her best bet is that they’re just respecting Tadashi. The older brother is charismatic and kind, at the very least. The younger one on the other hand…

“Ah, totally forgot to introduce myself,” Eugene speaks up, directing his words to Anna. He extends a hand to her, “Eugene Fitzherbert. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my lady?”

Anna blinks. Aw, how charming, but she knows he’s just playing. Nobody talks like this. Hell, nobody smiles like this. What is he even doing? Is this a smoulder? She wants to tell him not to try so hard, because although he does have a handsome face, she’s not interested. “Anna Eriksen,” she smiles nonetheless, taking his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Anna,” he pauses, glances at Elsa. “You guys together?”

“U-uh, um…” the redhead stutters. I-is he asking if they’re together _together_ , or… like…? Can Anna even consider them to be together _together?_ Are they official? They did hold hands, and—okay. You know what? Nah. Holding hands doesn’t mean anything. Friends can hold hands, yeah. No. No they’re not together _together._ Unfortunately. “We, uh. I’m Elsa’s friend. We’re playing beer pong together. As a team. Yes.”

Elsa, Anna notices, is equally as embarrassed, as she’s opted to look at anything but her and Eugene. 

A laugh. Eugene pats Anna on the back lightly, grabbing her attention. “Okay,” he wriggles his eyebrows at her. Like he’s totally seen through the whole thing or something.

Soon, the group is joined by a few more of Tadashi’s friends. Anna remembers some of their names from Elsa’s Netflix account—Gogo and Wasabi. And then there’s Honey Lemon and… a very ordinary-sounding _Fred_. Introducing herself as a (the only) high schooler is a bit awkward, though. Except, Elsa’s right; they really are nice people and aren’t judging at all. Then again, that Hiro kid is way younger than herself and isn’t being treated differently, so, yeah. Nice people. She learns that Hiro is some genius who graduated high school at the age of twelve and got accepted into NMU on scholarship when he submitted some ‘impressive portfolio’. He’s yet to decide on his major, though.

 _Pft._ Whatever. Anna blows upwards at her bangs.

Gogo and Tadashi are both in mechanical engineering (and are apparently a ‘thing’, whispers Honey Lemon), Wasabi’s in computer, and Honey Lemon’s in chemical and biological. It’s an entire ensemble, as they have nearly covered all the most important subjects within the faculty. Eugene, on the other hand, used to be in software, but he switched to business recently, and so he’s really just here to reunite with old friends. Something about business majors being backstabbers? That’s why he would much rather come to this party than anything. Finally, Fred’s in design for stage and film over in fine arts, but he’s been friends with everyone since high school, which is why he’s here.

It’s all quite interesting, and everyone is very friendly and nice and stuff, but… throughout all of this, only one thing is on Anna’s mind. Why didn’t they show up on Elsa’s birthday? A simple explanation is that maybe they’re not close enough to know it? Because Anna is damn sure that this group is the type to do surprises. It’s in their personalities. For them to not say anything would only mean that Elsa never even told them about the day.

Which really shouldn’t bother Anna all that much, considering how she got all that alone time with the blonde, but. Still. She glances at Elsa, bearing a small smile as everyone converses.

And it is through this party—it is through this gathering with others—that Anna can sense a degree of detachment about the other girl. Like Elsa’s here; she’s present, she exists, but she doesn’t really? Anna can’t—can’t explain it well enough. Elsa is so secretive. She’s so quiet. So mysterious.

But whatever it is that Elsa decides to do, Anna is unconditionally drawn to her. And if Elsa chooses to be so quiet, if this is what makes her comfortable, then Anna isn’t going to question it. She takes a step closer to the blonde, “Elsa?”

The blonde turns to her, bearing the same smile. “Hm?”

It all comes naturally. Anna reaches to place a hand on her shoulder. “You seem to be spacing out,” she says. “Is everything okay?”

Elsa reaches for her hand; her cool touch envelops Anna’s hand as her smile widens into the most reassuring one. “Yes,” she answers.

Anna wants to believe her. She really does. But that aforementioned sense of detachment returns. It’s almost like… how should she put it? Like Elsa’s hesitant about something. “You sure?”

Elsa nods. “Don’t worry about me. You should go ahead and have some fun.”

She chuckles. “It’s really hard when you’re a minor at a college drinking party,”

“That’s true,” the blonde laughs along. “If this isn’t to your liking, we can do something else.”

“I’d do anything that you would like to do, Elsa.” Anna says.

Elsa blushes, her pretty eyes shine under the colourful fairy lights hanging along the ceiling. The hand wrapped around Anna’s tenses a little, affirming her nervousness.

It is a warm, beautiful moment. Anna likes how everything seems to move in slow motion whenever they just look at each other. And as if the DJ gods are heeding to her call, as if they are listening Anna’s thoughts that she herself cannot hear, the booming music slows to a soft, romantic tune. The loudness recedes, and they are suddenly wrapped in this tender atmosphere; it pushes them to go out to— _yes—_ the dance floor.

At the corner of her eyes, Anna sees Tadashi and Gogo already there, wrapped in a loving embrace, dancing away to the steady rhythm.

Anna knows that there’s nothing stopping her. Why is she hesitating? Elsa’s right here. They’re technically holding onto each other’s hands right now, for god’s sake, so _come on, Anna. Do something! Ask her!_

“E-Elsa.” She hears herself squeak.

Elsa doesn’t speak. She just turns to her, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Do… do you, um,” Anna tries. She tries to speak louder, “Do you want to—”

“Do you want to dance with me?”

The two girls blink. They turn to the voice.

It’s Hiro. God, _fuck. Of course it’s this stupid kid,_ Anna’s mind screams. And. Wow. She sure is livid. Anna usually doesn’t drop the f-bomb so easily. This… this is beyond her.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Hiro says, taking Elsa’s hand.

“Oh, I-I… ah…” a conflicted Elsa looks to the boy, at Anna, and then back at the boy. “I don’t—”

“It’s fine! I don’t know how to dance either! Let’s just try!”

And Elsa is dragged to the dancefloor. Anna’s ears ring painfully—she becomes hyperaware of the entire scenario. How Elsa looks back to her, brows creased in confusion, and Anna is left standing there, frozen. B-because… what was she supposed to do? Stop Hiro? Hold onto Elsa and claim that the girl belongs to her? Throw a fit? No. No—she can’t do any of that. Elsa doesn’t belong to anyone. Elsa’s her own person. She… she can do whatever she wants. And if Elsa didn’t actively stop Hiro from dragging her out like that, if she so obviously didn’t put in the effort to stop the boy, then it only means that she’s okay with it, right?

But when she looked back at Anna like that…

 _God_. Her heart aches. Anna’s never experienced a heartbreak before, but she thinks it feels something like this. What is wrong with her? Why do her eyes feel so hot? And why are her fists clenched so tightly?!

So many _fucking_ questions.

She sighs. Her breath is shaky.

… Maybe she’s just being dramatic. Overreacting. This isn’t that big of a deal. It’s just… just a dance, yes. She tries her utter best not to look to the dance floor, now occupied by couples doing their thing.

Another sigh, and Anna turns around. She needs to sit down. Her head is spinning; she doesn’t think she can stand for long with these weak knees. God, she’s really pathetic, isn’t she? Being on the verge of shattering into a million pieces just because some _kid_ has beaten her to—

“Hey,”

She raises her head. Oh. Eugene. Anna forces a half smile because she doesn’t know what to say.

Eugene gives her an almost apologetic look. Like he understands everything that she’s going through. Anna is really hoping that he won’t hug her, because although she is desperately in need of one, she knows that she will break down into tears if anyone so much as gives her a bit of warmth. Wow, she’s childish. But can she help it? She—Elsa’s… Anna wants… _god,_ what is she even trying to say? To _think?_ Her mind’s a mess.

And thank goodness. All Eugene says is, “Come with me. Let’s get you a drink.”

Anna follows him wordlessly. It’s not like standing here by herself is going to change the situation. A drink sounds nice. Hell, she’ll even take alcohol. Who cares if she’s a minor?

They make their way to the bar. It’s just a studying counter with some stools, which Anna quickly plops herself down on. A guy playing bartender is standing behind all of this, and bottles of alcohol are displayed behind him; at least they’re putting an effort to make this place look like an actual club—if that’s what they’re going for.

“Here you go,” Eugene pushes a drink towards her.

Anna takes it without question. She’s a bit disappointed that it’s just a soft drink but downs the whole thing, nonetheless.

“Feel better?” he asks.

She nods. Not a lie—the drink helped refresh her. All the people in this stuffy suite are definitely getting to her. In fact, she could hardly breathe back there. “You didn’t spike my drink, did you? I mean, I barely know you.”

Eugene laughs. “No, no, I didn’t. Don’t worry. You’re not my type.”

“Uh huh,” Anna sighs. She rests an elbow on the counter to support her chin on a palm. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Hm? For what?”

“For… I don’t know. Stuff.”

He laughs again. Anna sees him looking towards the dance floor—something that she is fully incapable of doing at the moment, by the way. So she just stares at her empty plastic cup. “Y’know,” Eugene suddenly starts.

Anna tenses.

“You can still salvage this. Run up to them, push Hiro aside, sweep Elsa off her feet. You’ll be so heroic.”

“I’m not going to hurt a kid,” she rolls her eyes.

“Aw,” Eugene smirks. He grabs his own drink and swirls the contents inside, and for a moment, Anna thinks that this guy is actually kind of cool. Like an everybody’s-big-brother-type kind of guy. “You should still tell her how you feel, though.”

 _Ugh._ She grunts. “Is it that obvious?”

“The sexual tension is suffocating. The way you two look at each other. _Whew._ I would pay to watch you two go at it.”

Okay, first of all. This is totally déjà vu. Rapunzel has said something similar in the past—she has a feeling these two would get along. Secondly, why doesn’t it surprise her that he would say something like this? It’s almost expected. Anna admittedly doesn’t have many guy friends she would identify as ‘bros’, so she feels her relationship with Eugene right now is the closest she’d ever experience as such. Ergo, while she would normally become flustered after hearing something like that, right now, she finds herself just rolling her eyes again.

“We’re not together, Eugene,” she mumbles. “Elsa’s my math tutor. I’m just her student.”

“A teacher-student relationship? That’s even hotter.”

Anna nearly slams her head on the counter. So much for being a bro. Wait. This is precisely what getting advice from a bro would be like, isn’t it? Fine then. At least he’s consoling her. Or trying to. The guy’s not really good at it, nor is he being obvious, but Anna appreciates that he’s trying. Which is why she isn’t bothered by him. In fact, she quite enjoys his company. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks again,” Anna says with a smile. “Your charms will definitely get you a girlfriend one day.”

Eugene frowns at her playfully. “What makes you think I don’t have a girlfriend already?”

“Uh. The fact that you’re alone at a party and are talking to a high schooler you’re totally not interested in because no other girl is willing to talk to you?”

“Wow. You didn’t have to stab me that hard, Anna.”

She smirks. “Just trying to repay the favour.”

Eugene laughs, and Anna follows suit.

* * *

The two then go onto talk about other topics that are surprisingly sophisticated. Eugene turns out to be a very informative and knowledgeable guy, giving her tips about the different programs in NMU. Anna herself is interested in a variety of subjects, but being raised by parents who are both lawyers has more or less influenced her in some ways, and so she’s leaning more towards law. Eugene tells her that the law program is only ‘okay’ at NMU, so it’s probably better to consider other schools. Thing is, she’s already sent out a bunch of applications to a number of universities; she doesn’t have a particular preference, but if the school is more prestigious, then obviously she would go for whatever’s best.

For a while, they’re lost in their conversation until someone bursts into the suite, quite unnecessarily loudly, by the way. It’s some tall, burly guy with black hair tied in a ponytail. Anna would say that he’s gross, but the two girls wrapped around his arms would, for some reason, say otherwise.

“God damn, it’s Gaston,” Eugene beside her mutters. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Anna quirks a brow. “You say it like he’s murdered your firstborn.”

“Oh, he might as well have,” Eugene crosses his arms. “Asshole took all the credit for one of our presentations. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have sent the slides to him so soon. Could’ve screwed him over myself.”

She has no idea what the older boy is talking about, but it is in that moment when Anna has discovered business majors are cutthroat as hell.

“Stay away from him, alright? Seriously, fuck that guy.”

She has no intention to even remotely approach him in the first place, but if it makes Eugene feel better, Anna nods.

The slow music transitions into a more upbeat one—which soon becomes terribly loud. The DJ yells something into the mic, but its shitty quality blends poorly with the music, so Anna can’t comprehend whatever he’s just said.

“Anna?”

That delicate voice, though, no matter how soft, no matter how much it is covered up by the loudness, Anna would always, _always_ comprehend. Slowly, she turns on her seat. Lo and behold—it’s Elsa. Standing there, all vulnerable. Fiddling with her fingers by habit and looking all worried, as she does.

“Alright,” Eugene takes his cue to stand. “Imma head out. Take my seat, Elsa.” He gives Anna a wink and Elsa a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, probably rejoining Tadashi and the others.

Elsa hesitates for a moment, and then she makes her way over to the stool. All quiet.

_Well._

This is awkward.

Anna picks up her empty cup and pretends to drink from it. She’s got to find something to occupy herself with, otherwise she will get all trembly.

“Anna…” Elsa calls again.

She swallows, still unwilling to turn towards the blonde.

“I… is everything okay?”

Anna hums, biting onto the rim of her cup.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She says a bit too harshly.

Elsa shirks at that.

_Oh no._

See, Anna didn’t mean it like that. Why is she being so mean? Why can’t she just answer Elsa normally? She’s scared the poor girl, all because she’s being stubborn. So please. _Please, talk to her—_ “Elsa,”—she musters all the will in her to face the blonde.

“Yes?” the other girl replies in an instant.

At that, Anna is stuck. Her tongue is caught in her throat and all the words seem to have escaped from the tip of her mind. The fact that she wants to ask Elsa to dance, to tell her that everything truly is okay—that she wants to _confess._ Nope. Nothing. All gone.

Anna has never felt this pathetic. The realization makes her shoulders droop, like all the spirit in her has evaporated into thin air. Anna stands from her seat—well, more like _spills_. She feels like a blob of slime. “I’m…” god, she can’t even find the words. She takes a deep breath, “I’m going to use the restroom.”

Not that she can see, but Elsa probably has her signature worried look. The one that makes her so loveable. Actually, all different sides of her makes her loveable. Anna loves all sides.

“O-okay,” the blonde says quietly. “I’ll wait for you right here.”

Anna doesn’t answer. She just walks off.

* * *

There’s this seating area right along the corridor leading to the restrooms to the suite. Anna finds the place to be comfortable because, like, the music is muffled here and it’s not stuffy. Even the occasional person who passes by doesn’t bother her.

It’s nice.

Anna leans back in her chair, stretching her legs out. She stuffs her hands in the front pocket of Elsa’s hoodie and—

_Elsa._

Sigh.

What is wrong with her?

Anna digs her phone out and sees that she’s been hiding here for like… fifteen minutes? It’s unreal. Anna is a bit scared of what she’s become solely due to jealousy. That’s what it is, right? Jealousy? Maybe, maybe not. After all, Anna was the one to let her go. Eugene was right; she totally could have gone out there to get Elsa back. She had the opportunity to stop Hiro from taking Elsa away in the first place. To be honest, none of this is even Hiro’s fault.

Now that she has calmed down, Anna knows it’s all her.

If she were in the mood, she would be patting herself on the back for thinking in such a mature way, but the thing is, she’s also done some stupid shit back there. Such as being a little kid, refusing to speak to Elsa, leaving Elsa behind and… well, being rude in general, really.

Twenty minutes.

She’s been out here for twenty minutes. Anna wonders what Elsa is doing. She hopes she isn’t drinking. She certainly hopes she’s taking good care of herself, and if Hiro is with her right now, at this point, Anna thinks that he deserves to be with her. At least he’s trying. Because what the hell is _she_ doing? Just sitting around, moping like some child who lost her toy.

And that’s really, _really_ stupid.

Anna doesn’t want to be like this. Not for Elsa. She needs to be better.

“Okay.” Anna mutters to herself. She jumps out of her seat, takes a deep breath, and straightens her clothes. The smell of lavender clings onto her, just like the thought of Elsa. Ironic because it mirrors her current situation. It’s best that she goes out there and talk to Elsa. Fix whatever that’s been damaged.

Hm. Funny how they’re not even dating yet and they’re already having a lovers’ quarrel, albeit a very one-sided one.

Wait.

Her cheeks heat up.

Wow, did she just— _wow._ What right does she have to say that they’re not dating _yet_? Who is she to say that they’re having a _lovers’ quarrel_? Have to stop getting her own hopes up like this.

 _Damn it,_ she hates this. Just apologize!

_Okay._

Okay. She’s got this.

Anna re-enters the suite, and it’s like she’s gone into a whole new dimension. There are way more people in here now—it’s turned into a full-on nightclub. Elsa wasn’t lying when she said that the snowstorm would make more people come to this party. As Anna fights her way through the crowd, she sees Eugene, Tadashi, and their group of friends are lounging around the sofas, playing some drinking game. Hiro, likewise, is gathered with them, and… is it just her, or does he look a bit sad? Huh. Surprised he’s not using this opportunity to talk to Elsa. Whatever.

Finally, she sees the back of Elsa’s head and realizes that she’s back at the bar, where she’s left the girl. A wave of relief—here’s her chance. She just needs to explain everything to her. Tell her that she was a being an immature, jealous _child,_ and that is why she ran off. It’s okay if she’s not forgiven, because she’ll try her very best to make up for it.

“Elsa!” she calls out.

No response. Well, _duh._ The music is freaking loud and there are so many people.

“Yep, don’t mind me! Just trying to get through!” Anna says as she squeezes her way through the sweaty bodies. It’s seriously so gross; they’re just grinding on each other, and Anna unintentionally feels (but tries not to focus on) these strangers’ soft and… uh, _hard_ parts. Egh.

Slipping past the last couple of people proves to be the most challenging, because at that point, Anna is already out of breath. She damn well nearly died in there. But it’s okay, she’s alive. She survived the apocalypse. Anna stands straight again and regains her balance. Now for the real challenge. “Els—”

She stops. Her body turns cold and her heart drops. Like her soul is sucked out of her very being. B-because…

“Elsa…”

_Oh, no._

No.

She didn’t— _couldn’t_ —see earlier, but beside Elsa is… it’s that guy. It’s the guy Eugene told her to be careful of. That guy with the ponytail—Gaston. W-why is he sitting with Elsa? Why is he so close—why are they _laughing_ together and… his hand. It’s on Elsa’s thigh, sliding up higher, _higher_ —

“Hey!” she yells, sprinting at top speed towards them. Her instinct is to pull Elsa away, which she does, wrapping her arms around the taller girl’s waist. And then it all happens so naturally; Elsa, in response, circles her arms around Anna’s neck and hides in her shoulder. Anna tries not to get distracted by how this is technically their first hug or how soft Elsa feels in her arms; instead, she glares at the guy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Whoa, hey! Relax!” he chuckles. And if Anna didn’t get the warning from Eugene, she would say that he sounds friendly. In an eerie kind of way. “We were just having some fun. Am I right, blondie?” He reaches out to touch Elsa’s cheek.

To which Anna responds by swatting his hand away. “Don’t touch her.”

Gaston gives her this annoyed scowl. But Anna isn’t one to back out. She glares back at him threateningly, something that she doesn’t know she has the balls to do, and the two are caught in this stare-down.

“A-Anna…” Elsa mumbles into her neck.

Anna’s reaction is immediate. “What is it?” she asks, speaking gently against Elsa’s ear.

A giggle—one that sounds a bit too high pitched to be _Elsa._ The blonde pulls back. Her face is completely flushed and her eyes are half-lidded. “You’re _baaaaaack!”_

… Um, what?

Another giggle. “I waited and waited and _waited_ but you never came back… I thought you left me…” Elsa’s pouts, lower lip sticking out and _oof._ Don’t get distracted. “But it’s okay! You’re here now!”

No, it’s not okay. Anna feels a pang of guilt stabbing into her heart. Why did she ever leave Elsa in the first place? This is not good. Elsa’s not even tipsy anymore. It’s like the girl has taken more than several shots but… not really? She certainly doesn’t smell of booze. Also, Anna knows for a fact that Elsa isn’t one to accept drinks from a stranger—let alone some sketchy-looking pervert. She’s way smarter than that. Plus, no matter how bad Elsa’s alcohol tolerance level may be, the few beers she’s had earlier should have disappeared from her system by now. Anna assesses the situation and—

Oh god.

She comes to the only conclusion. Without letting Elsa go, she reaches for the red cup on the counter—the one on Elsa’s side. She observes the emptied contents and takes a sniff. It’s just coke. Just a soda. There aren’t any more cups on the counter except for this and the one on Gaston’s side. 

“What the hell did you give her?” Anna holds Elsa a bit closer to herself.

He shrugs, giving her this innocent, pouty face.

Which is extremely punchable, by the way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stands from his stool, and Anna is just seeing how tall the guy is. Almost twice her size, really. “Say, she’s not feeling well, isn't she? Why don’t I escort you two back to your room?”

Anna stands her ground, subtly turning so that she can shield Elsa’s body with her own. “There’s no need.”

Gaston laughs, holding onto his stomach like he’s heard the greatest joke ever. “Aw, come on,” he tries to touch her face, but Anna swats him away again, this time harder. “Ooh. You like it rough?”

Holy shit. This guy is an idiot. Isn’t college supposed to be for smart people? Jeez. Anna resists the urge to roll her eyes too hard, so instead, she sighs. “I’d suggest you leave us alone.”

He laughs again, this time louder, more arrogantly. “Well, I would,” he says, _actually_ touching Anna this time on her chin to tilt her head up. “But how can I resist a pretty redhead such as yourself?”

While flattered, Anna definitely doesn’t need to hear this from some sexual predator. “You are seriously not going to leave us alone?”

“Nope,” Gaston says easily. He leans in closer, enough that his breath brushes against Anna’s ear, whispering, “I’d much rather have the two of you _in my bed.”_

Disgusting. Anna is abhorred. High school has shown her a pretty dark side of humanity, and she was convinced that she would be able to meet more cool people like Eugene and Tadashi once she’s out of that hell hole, but this guy— _ugh,_ this guy is a big no-no in society itself.

Whatever the case, now that it’s been established that he is a brain-dead dumbass, Anna decides that there is a great way to get him out of her way. In one dramatic motion, she kicks down a stool, knocking the rest over in a domino effect. The clanging metal of the seats distracts Gaston as she covers Elsa’s ears, and then she screams as loudly as she can, “OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY HELP!”

The music abruptly ends, Gaston actually _jumps,_ while the rest of the people around her—bartender and the people on the dancefloor included—all look her way.

“This guy just tried to grope me!” she cries dramatically. “I think he tried to spike my drink as well!”

“Wha—” Gaston blinks. His jaw slackens, as if ready to defend himself.

“Hey, man, that’s not cool!” some guys from the dance floor make their way towards the trio. “Who the hell are you? Did you even get an invitation? This party is engineering students only!” None of them is taller than Gaston, but it’s enough people to face one tall guy head-on.

Seeing how the idiot is no longer in the picture, Anna takes the opportunity to check up on the blonde. “Elsa? Elsa, are you okay? What did he give you?”

The girl in question just shakes her head, burying herself closer in Anna’s shoulder. “Mmm…” her arms around Anna’s neck tighten. “I… didn’t want to…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Anna soothes, speaking into Elsa’s soft hair. “He’s not here anymore. Just tell me, what did he give you?”

“Anna.”

Oh, thank god. “Eugene,” she says without having to look at him. “It’s Gaston. He put something in her drink. I don’t know if it’s going to hurt her.”

Eugene picks up Elsa’s plastic cup to inspect what’s inside.

“It’s just a coke,” Anna affirms. “But he’s definitely added something in there.”

“Yeah,” Eugene places it carefully back on the counter. “It’s GBL, Anna. I’m pretty sure,” Eugene says.

Anna tilts her head in confusion.

“Gamma-Butyrolactone? Liquid G? Also known as the ‘date rape’ drug? Y’know.” Before Anna can freak out, he quickly adds, “Elsa will be alright. The dumbass wasn’t stupid enough to mix it with alcohol, so it won’t harm her body. Still, stay close to her for the night; call the campus emergency line if she shows any signs of breathing difficulty, okay?”

“Wait, what?” Anna runs her hand up to the back of Elsa’s head protectively, holding her close. Oh god… breathing difficulty? _Ambulance_ …? Elsa can’t—

“Relax,” a soft voice tells her. She turns to see Honey Lemon.

“She would have blacked out by now if she overdosed.” Gogo approaches with her arms crossed.

“Take her back to her room, alright?” Wasabi pats Anna on the back.

“We’ll take care of this, Anna. Don’t worry.” Tadashi fixes his hat.

“Oh, I am so gonna beat the shit out of that guy!” Fred pounds his fist into his palm.

“Don’t be stealing my kill, Fred,” Hiro steps up between everyone.

The way the six of them stand like that, posing and stuff, they have this… how should she put it? Fire? No, _vigour_ in their eyes. Like they’re ready to show some justice. Anna thinks they kind of look like superheroes—it’s pretty awesome. And yes, that includes Hiro.

“Thanks guys,” Anna says.

“Go on, make sure she’s okay.” Hiro tells her with a smirk.

With that, Anna nods at him and leads Elsa out. The girl isn’t wasted or anything, so she’s actually walking on her own. All Anna has to do is guide her. “Come on, this way,” she tells Elsa softly as they enter the elevator. Anna presses onto the metallic _5_ button and backs up against the wall. Elsa just slouches her entire body against Anna’s—so they’re literally hugging each other. Except Anna’s trying her best to keep the both of them balanced.

“Anna…” Elsa calls. It sounds like she’s whining.

Anna rubs at her back, hoping that this would somehow make her feel better. “I’m here. What do you need?”

The blonde shakes her head. Her arms that are now wrapped around Anna’s waist starts moving upwards to claw at her back. It doesn’t actually hurt since the NMU hoodie is so thick, but it definitely tickles. “Hug-hug.”

“Huh?”

Elsa draws back. Her face is an inch from Anna’s and she’s grinning and all giggly and she’s leaning in and…!

“Boop!”

If this were a cartoon, question marks would appear all above Anna’s head. Did Elsa just _boop_ her nose with her own?! Oh god, now Elsa’s laughing and— _Jesus Christ—_ she sounds so cute. How many times did Anna describe Elsa as ‘cute’ in the past few days? Probably more than one hundred—but can she help it? _Just_ _listen to her!_

The elevator arrives on their floor with a _ding_ and Anna gets to work. “Alright, you can boop all you want when we get you to bed, okay?”

“Nooo…” the blonde whines. She clings around Anna’s neck, refusing to let her leave the elevator. “Let’s go build a snowman!”

Anna starts chuckling in spite of herself. “We can build one when the storm’s over. For now, we need you to rest.”

Elsa pouts. “But I’m not tired…”

“We can watch a movie,” Anna offers gently. “Would you want that? Let something play until you fall asleep?”

“Movie?” Elsa perks her head up, “Oh! I love movies! C-can we—” _hiccup,_ “—Disney? I want Disney. I want to be a fairy queen!”

It’s really hard for Anna to maintain a straight face when the usually elegant, poised, and borderline regal Elsa is acting like a five-year-old child. Whatever this drug is, Anna likes it. N-not in the date-rape context— _god forbid_ —but in the loss-of-inhibitions and giggly sort of way.

They enter Elsa’s room, where Anna proceeds to flip on the light switches. “Okay, Elsa, let’s get you on the couch, and then we can watch something together.”

Note, they are still hugging each other, and Anna wants to know how Elsa, despite being several inches taller than herself, is so freaking light. If Anna wanted to, she could probably bridal carry this girl.

Well. That’s only if she _wanted_ to. It’s just in theory. Nothing serious.

“Mmm…” Elsa mumbles. She buries herself into Anna’s neck once more. “Watch with me?”

Elsa’s soft voice vibrates against Anna’s skin; she has to bite at her tongue to stop herself from gasping. “Mhmm,” she manages. “Come on. Shoes off.”

They stumble across the room like they’re caught in an awkward dance, with Anna trying to push Elsa to the couch and the latter trying to resist for whatever reason.

“Oh my goodness, Elsa—” Anna says with a half-annoyed, half-amused laugh, “I thought you wanted to watch a movie?”

The blonde doesn’t answer; instead, she resists harder, now dragging Anna towards the bed. The suddenness catches her off guard and she is flopped onto her back, bouncing lightly when she hits the soft mattress.

“What…” Anna can’t finish. Elsa’s already on top of her, straddling her hips between her long legs. “E-Elsa, wait—”

Elsa doesn’t. She dives straight in and Anna’s reaction is to shut her eyes and stay completely still. It’s like she’s petrified. Jeez, she’s having second thoughts about the drug. Whatever it’s doing to Elsa is way too unpredictable. Such as right now, with the blonde on top of her, pinning her down, Anna doesn’t know what to expect. Doesn’t know if she should be frightened or… _perhaps_ anticipate what she’s been wanting to do with Elsa all this time.

J-just a kiss! Nothing perverted. Because… _um._ She doesn’t… know how…?

“I’m s-sorry…” Elsa hiccups.

It is then Anna realizes that Elsa is hiding in her neck once more, dainty hands grasping onto her—well, _her own_ —hoodie. And instinctively, Anna’s arms move up around Elsa’s back, resuming that scrubbing motion to ease her. “Why are you apologizing?” she asks in a soft voice.

“Mmm…” the blonde moans in response. Her voice vibrates against the redhead’s skin. “Anna…”

“I’m here,” she assures, bringing a hand up to comb at the soft, white-gold strands that have fallen to frame Elsa’s face.

“I—” _hiccup,_ “—wanted to d-dance with you…”

 _Oh,_ her heart. It _strains._ Anna swallows, turning to press her lips against Elsa’s temple. “I know.”

“I-I thought you were mad…”

“I was,” Anna confesses. “But it’s not you. It was my fault for not trying harder.”

Elsa shakes her head, pulling back a little to look up at the redhead. Half-lidded pools of blue twinkle gently. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know. But then I walked off. It was me, Elsa. You did nothing wrong.”

Another hiccup. "I w-would've been happy if it was just us today."

 _What?_ Anna stiffens. Just them? What does she— _oh._

Oh god. It all makes sense.

Elsa didn't actually want to go to the party in the first place. Anna's such an _idiot_ for not realizing that. It's why she always looks so out of it. So detached and lost and… "Oh, Elsa," Anna sighs. 

"But I-I wanted you to have fun."

"You could have told me. I would've been just as happy to stay here with you. Then you wouldn't be…" Anna clucks her tongue. To think that Gaston almost took advantage of Elsa because of her immaturity is like… it's like gravity's shifted only for her. Like she's getting dragged down by nothingness; an invisible weight. It clasps onto her shoulder and tries to sink her to the bottom, and it's just so, _so_ infuriating. 

“… I wanted him to go away.”

Anna tenses. She holds Elsa closer.

“He said he’d… go away if—if I had a drink with him… so I just…”

 _I’m so sorry,_ Anna wants to say, but she’s scared that her voice will come out all shaky. A hand moves to cup Elsa’s cheek, hoping that she can hold onto this moment—hang onto this delicate gaze that connects them.

“I-I want…” Elsa starts, her voice becoming so soft it’s hard to hear. But Anna knows. She knows what she wants. “… Anna…”

“Hmm?”

“Can…” she looks to Anna’s lips.

Her breathing is laboured; Anna can hear it. Because it’s the same for herself. She can practically feel her heart pounding against Elsa’s chest, and Elsa’s against her own.

“… Can you kiss me?” she whispers, “Please?” Her eyes are soft, tired, and so full of anticipation and hopefulness. 

_Oh,_ she wants to. She wants to _so_ much. But Anna gives her a small smile, brushing away the perfect fringes at her forehead to press her lips there. “I can,” she says. “But not when you’re under the influence.”

Elsa blinks. She looks so confused, so adorable. “Oh…” she pouts again.

The sight of her bottom lip puffed up like that never fails to amuse Anna. She chuckles and hugs the blonde more closely. “Ask me again when you’re sober,” she says into Elsa’s hair. “Ask me, and I will. Okay? I promise you.”

Elsa nods weakly. “Mmn…”

They snuggle closer. Anna pulls the covers over them and wraps her arms around the blonde, watching contently with a smile until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to point out that i have nothing against business majors; i am one myself and i have to admit that we really are the most cutthroat son-of-a-bitches in the world. also, obviously, don't take drugs. 
> 
> and, as always, thank you for your feedback. i love all of your comments! it gives me a way to "socialize" during these crazy times :') please stay safe out there, everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

Since being stranded up here on the mountain, Anna has noticed several things about Elsa’s sleeping patterns. One, she doesn’t snore—which, really, isn’t all that surprising. Two, Elsa has this habit of sleeping on her side, with her hands clasped together and tucked next to her face. It makes her look like a child and it’s irresistibly cute. Anna’s read somewhere that this position provides psychological comfort. So does that mean the blonde has some kind of trauma in the past? Yeah, no. _Ha-ha._ Anna scoffs to her own thoughts. She’s reading way too much into it; all she knows is that seeing Elsa like that brings up this unspoken urge from deep within to hug her and protect her.

Thirdly and finally, Elsa is, in fact, a very deep sleeper.

She knows this because she herself snores like an overworked locomotive; Mulan told her that all the girls couldn’t get any sleep at all during their basketball retreat last year because of her loud snoring. Which. Anna believes, because her very own parents tell her the same thing. Something like how they can hear her snoring through the walls? Yet, when Anna asks Elsa if her snoring is bad, the latter simply tells her that she can’t hear anything.

It’s nice to finally find someone who doesn’t judge her snoring. Well, at least until Elsa _actually_ hears the snoring.

Anyway, the point that Anna is trying to make is that Elsa’s a heavy sleeper. She managed to slip out of the blonde’s arms in the morning, wash up, trek her way through the storm (which has calmed down considerably; it really is just flurrying by now) to the supermarket close by to grab some hangover-essentials, return, and Elsa is still asleep. Anna thinks at first that the G-whatever-drug has put Elsa into a coma, but to her relief, when she observes more closely, it turns out Elsa really is just sleeping.

And _dearie her,_ has she mentioned it already? Elsa is the most endearing when she’s asleep. The way her lips part a little at each breath, how her shoulders rise and fall, how—at times—she would mumble something incomprehensible. Anna’s convinced; Elsa’s a saint. A goddess. A freaking _alien_ who came from Planet Exquisite to bless Earth with her beauty and grace. 

N-not that Anna was watching her (extensively) when she was sleeping! Just that. Y’know. Elsa was sleeping right on top of her last night and Anna was trying her utter best to be as quiet as possible when she moved and in doing so she had to keep an eye on Elsa and… like.

She—she’s out of excuses.

Alright, _fine._ She may have been watching Elsa for a little bit. It really was just a little, though!

So, please, _to all the deities who have crafted the angel that is Elsa,_ forgive her for her sins. Anna means no ill intent. The magnetic pull she feels towards the blonde is growing stronger by the day, and she fears that what’s left of her resolve will soon disappear. And when that happens…

_Well._

Anna wrings the cold water out of the towel and makes her way out of the washroom. She sits next to Elsa on the bed and dabs it gently on blonde’s cheeks and forehead. Not that the girl’s sick or anything, but Anna used some time to google the effects of GBL, and apparently it gives people feelings akin to a hangover, so she just figured that this would make Elsa feel better. Honestly, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just wants to help.

But then Elsa stirs.

“Mmn…” Elsa moans, turning away from her touch.

Anna draws back. She waits until Elsa stops moving before coming back in to press the towel at her forehead again.

But this time, Elsa opens her eyes.

Anna keeps still. Keeps her hand on Elsa’s forehead. Keeps her eyes on Elsa’s.

“Hi.” Anna hears herself breathe.

Elsa’s reaction is to clench onto the covers and pull it up just below her eyes. “G-good morning,” she squeaks, voice muffling into the thick blanket.

Anna can’t resist the smile, but she tries not to be too obvious about it. Her lips thin into a line. Hesitantly, she removes the towel and, in turn, her hand. “You feeling better?” she asks.

Elsa darts her pretty blue eyes to the corner. Her face is covered, but Anna can tell—she’s blushing. Shyly, Elsa nods once.

“Okay,” Awkwardness aside, Anna pushes through, “um. Do you want to sleep a bit more? I’ll just—”

“No, I…” Elsa cuts in. Slowly, she sits up and— _wow._ Of course her hair is perfect. Well, yeah, some strands have fallen out of place and her braid is loose, but Elsa still looks flawless. What Anna wouldn’t give to look like a fashion model the moment she wakes up.

“Careful,” Anna keeps a hand at the blonde’s back, steadying her.

“I-I’m okay,” Elsa says as she rubs an eye.

Anna pulls away, folding her hands in her lap.

“What time is it?” Elsa asks in a tired voice.

“It’s almost noon. You were out for some time, and I was starting to worry.”

Elsa clutches a hand to her chest and looks to the redhead apologetically. “I’m so sorry—I… that is so rude of me. Let me just…” she swings her legs off the bed and stands straight up in an instant.

And— _yeah,_ the action is probably way too sudden. She plummets back onto the bed and Anna easily catches her, helping her rest against the headboard. “Hey, easy—what are you trying to do?”

“I…” Elsa brings a delicate hand up to press onto her head; she looks like she’s in pain, “… I shouldn’t be troubling you like this, I—oh, Anna, are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat. What do you—"

“Elsa,” Anna cuts her off, laughing. “I’m fine, really. You should worry more about yourself.”

“No, I—”

“Alright, you know what?” Anna speaks in a stricter tone, but it’s not like she’s being all that serious. Hell, she can never be mad at Elsa. “You’ve been cooking for me _and_ giving me shelter for two days straight. I also don’t know how much longer I’m going to be here, so if anyone is feeling bad, it should be me. So, can you please let me return the favour?”

But then Elsa looks up at her with those _lethal,_ large, round eyes. 

_Ahh_ —she looks likes like a scared, lost, little puppy. Anna thinks her heart is about to melt. She softens her tone. “Please just rest and let me take care of you for today.”

Elsa’s breath hitches. She brings her fingers together and starts fiddling with them out of nervousness. “But I’m… you’re a guest, and I’m…”

“ _Elsa_.” Anna narrows her eyebrows at her, faking an angry look by puffing her cheeks up.

The blonde blinks. Takes a minute, but she finally breaks into a soft giggle. Anna takes note that Elsa does this cute thing where she would cover her mouth as she laughs, shoulders shaking lightly. Elegance and adorableness all mixed into one.

“Okay,” Elsa finally says. She takes a deep breath and relaxes. “But let me know if you need help with anything.”

“Nah-uh, no can do,” Anna crosses her arms. “I’m the boss today. If you defy me, I am kicking you out,” she pauses when Elsa’s smile widens, and then quickly adds, “… your dorm. I’ll be kicking you out of your own dorm.”

Elsa giggles again, rolling her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll listen to you.”

“Good,” she grins. “Then sit back and let Chef Anna make you the best Christmas brunch you will ever have in your life!”

“Oh, dear. It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” The blonde breathes out. She looks around the room, as if searching for something. But then she quickly looks up again. “Do you mind if I go wash up?”

“Go ahead,” Anna stands and backs up. She extends an arm to Elsa, “Here, let me help you.”

The action makes redness on Elsa’s cheeks darken, and the girl seems to know this, as she is ducking her head low, seemingly to hide herself. But she regains herself once more and a trembling hand reaches up to Anna’s, taking it in a gentle grip. The redhead pulls her up in one motion, which Elsa totally did not expect, and is precisely why they are caught in an embrace now. Elsa freezes at the realization; her hands are on Anna’s shoulders, and Anna—yeah, _very smooth—_ her arms are circled around Elsa’s tiny waist.

 _Nice._ Just— _great freaking job, Anna._ When Elsa is steady, Anna backs away. “Sorry,” she whispers without looking the blonde’s way.

“No, it—it’s okay. Thank you.” Elsa speaks in an equally quiet voice. She clears her throat before starting again, “I’m going to… I’ll just.” Elsa lets go of Anna and heads towards the washroom.

And as she moves, Anna’s eyes just naturally attach themselves onto her back, following her until the door closes.

* * *

When Elsa comes out of the shower, her hair is down and—for the _millionth_ time upon looking at this girl—Anna forgets how to breathe. The white-gold strands reach Elsa’s back, flowing gently with her movement like a river of starlight. Elsa herself has changed to an oversized white dress shirt that is hanging off a shoulder, revealing the pink bra strap underneath, a-and… and the shirt reaches down to her thighs. It kind of resembles a dress but also not really? To be specific, it looks more like one of those _I-just-had-sex-with-my-boyfriend-and-I-am-wearing-his-shirt_ kind of shirt. But it’s definitely female-fitted—it’s just oversized, so Elsa didn’t have sex with any guy last night. She definitely didn’t have sex with Anna, either, _uh-uh._

Wait, where did the topic of _sex_ even come from?! _Oh god,_ what is she getting at?! Oh, right. So, um.

The shorts that Elsa’s wearing underneath aren’t really showing and it looks like she’s. Not. Wearing. _Anything_.

Shit.

This is it.

Anna bites onto her tongue.

She clenches onto her fists under the table tightly.

 _This_ is her sexual awakening.

_Oh god oh god oh god—_

Yeah, sure, she finds Elsa to be utterly gorgeous, felt how soft her body is, _and_ she’s even seen her… um… _boobs._

(Just a little! Anna didn’t look too long!)

But.

But _this._ She sees now.

If she has to spell it out, Elsa is… she’s actually _really_ hot.

_Like._

She _exudes_ sex.

 _And, um_. Remember that blue, see-through, garter belt, lingerie-thing she saw on the mannequin in front of Victoria’s Secret the other day? Well. At that time, she felt nothing but sinful when she pictured Elsa wearing it. Now, she feels if Elsa doesn’t wear it, she _may die._

To be fair though, Anna’s fairly innocent. She’s never searched up porn. She enjoys romance films every now and then, and she does feel kind of tingly whenever sex scenes come on. But she’s never been _turned on_ before, per se. And now, she thinks this is the first time she’s actually experienced it first-hand. How does one even describe this feeling? Spinning head, shortness of breath, rapidly-beating heart—these are all typical signs, she knows. 

But then there’s also this urge to… t-to…

_Fuck._

No. _Nonononono._ No. NO! That’s not it! She wasn’t thinking _fuck!_ At least, not in _that_ context! No way. Nothing so vulgar. _Ugh._ Holy crap. This is getting out of hand. One look at Elsa wearing something slightly risqué and she’s turned into a horny teenaged-boy? This is dangerous. Stop. Stop thinking about it! Stop feeling it! Stop being such a god damn _pervert!_ Anna clamps her thighs together and digs her blunt nails into her palms. Maybe this way, she can channel this weirdness elsewhere. Maybe then she wouldn’t be feeling so _hot._

“Oh, Anna!”

She raises her head in an instant, hearing a crack in her neck from the sudden movement. “Y-yes?”

“This looks delicious!” Elsa sits down across the table. She looks at her plate with a wide grin, eyes gleaming with delight.

Now that Anna can no longer see those smooth legs of hers, she can calm down a bit.

(It also makes her realize that Elsa’s _legs_ are probably her sexiest part but—yeah, there could be other parts, but. _Stop._ )

“Aw, it’s just an omelette,” Anna blushes. Earlier in the morning, she got some mushrooms, tomatoes, and some peppers down at the supermarket. All she has to do is chop them all up, crack two eggs, a bit of cheese and _voila._ She did put some extra effort to garnish it a bit, putting the hash browns beside the fluffy, neatly folded omelette to make it look prettier.

“But it’s—” Elsa takes a bite. Anna can tell she is really hungry by how big of a bite it is. “—Anna, this is really good!”

Her cheeks heat up even more. “I’m pretty sure you’re exaggerating…” Anna still refuses to face the blonde directly out of fear of exploding.

But at the corner of her eyes, she sees Elsa cutting into the omelette with the side of the fork, inch by inch, very carefully. It’s like she’s savouring it, enjoying it like a gourmet meal prepared by Gordon Ramsay himself when, really, it’s _just an omelette._

The thought of it makes Anna want to do launch herself from her seat and do a happy dance. Nobody has ever eaten her food like it’s a delicacy. Granted, she’s only really cooked for herself and her parents on Mother or Father’s Day, but this is different! _Elsa_ is saying it so genuinely and sincerely and just…

_Sigh_

The burst of warmth in her chest is pulsing unstoppably. _God._ Anna is on the verge of crying.

“Anna?” Elsa calls softly, “What about you? You didn’t make any for yourself?”

“Oh, no, I… uh, um,” she swallows, still refusing to look up. “I woke up early and made myself something already and—oh! Almost forgot!” Anna heads towards the fridge and takes out a package. She pours out the contents into a glass and returns to the table. “Here, Elsa, have this. I searched for what the best things are to eat and drink and I got ‘hot soup’ and ‘coconut water’ in the results. I couldn’t really make hot soup when the aisles were out of everything, but I did read that a healthy breakfast would suffice,” she goes back to her seat. “I tried to search for the healthiest brand for coconut water in the supermarket and found this. It’s kind of high in sugar, but it’s the best they have, sadly.”

Elsa reaches for the glass, holding onto it with both hands as she stares at the clear liquid. “Oh, Anna…”

“Hmm?”

The blonde brings the glass up to her lips, and, much like Anna, she doesn’t look up. As if she’s also afraid that once their gaze connects, she will risk exploding. She takes a small sip and—Anna would have missed it if she didn’t pay close attention—“… so sweet.”

 _Damn,_ she knew it. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve gotten something else—” she stands and reaches for the glass, but Elsa stops her, catching her hand midway in a gentle grip.

“No,” Elsa whispers. Again with those creased brows. But this time, there’s a hint of affection. Adoration.

Anna stills involuntarily, as if time has frozen.

Her throat runs dry. She knows she’s not supposed to because she said it (thought it) earlier, but she raises her head. Naturally, their eyes connect. In that moment—right at that very second, Anna is locked in place.

That saying ‘ _have someone look at you the way so-and-so looks at whoever’_ is quite applicable here. Because the way Elsa looks at her is… _man._ Anna has never felt so appreciated, so admired.

And when Elsa’s grip on her hand tenses, the redhead exhales. Like a sigh of relief. Like she’s overcome some impossible trial designed for the Spartans. Her gentle fingers wrap themselves around Elsa’s dainty hand, and slowly, without breaking away from Elsa’s darkened blue eyes, Anna brings it to her lips.

Elsa’s shoulders start rising and falling a bit more quickly, but she remains still. Anticipating.

Then, as light as feathers, Anna kisses a knuckle, so as to test the waters.

The blonde breathes in a gentle gasp. The anticipation melts into a sense of comfort. Like slow motion, the corners of Elsa’s lips arch upwards. Her eyes sparkle so much under the warm light; they are twinkly, glassy, and Anna thinks Elsa’s about to cry.

But it’s okay. Everything is okay. Because like Elsa, Anna feels the same. Her eyes feel hot, her nose is sour, her throat throbs, but it feels right. Nothing feels more right than this. Nothing can ever compare.

So she presses her lips onto another knuckle.

Elsa’s blush deepens.

Anna smiles. She kisses another knuckle.

Elsa breathes in, but she soon giggles.

A burst of affection.

Carefully, like handling broken glass, Anna brings her other hand up, cradling onto Elsa’s with both of her own. She guides Elsa’s palm to her cheek and leans in. Elsa’s touch is warm, soft, comforting. Not a single blemish, not a single blister on her palm. Just _softness._ Closing her eyes just like this would make her fall into a deep trance. The feeling of peace and a state of euphoria—all within Elsa’s grasp. Anna turns to press one more kiss into her palm.

“Anna…” Elsa’s cheeks are still tinted in a beautiful shade of pink.

Anna hums. She realizes now that they haven’t broken eye contact. And while mere minutes ago, she found the atmosphere to be heavy due to her own awkwardness, right now, she feels nothing but bliss.

“How am I supposed to eat with you holding onto my hand like this?” Elsa asks in a breathy whisper as her fingers stroke along the redhead’s cheek.

Anna just chuckles in response. “You can use your other hand.”

“… I’m a leftie.”

“Well,” Anna knows that, of course. She’s picked up on so many of Elsa’s little habits and mannerisms. Like how she would often sit super straight as if she’s groomed to attend events suited for royalty; like how her cheeks would redden just so slightly when she smiles; like how her deep, blue eyes would stare back at her as if she were admiring a painting. She finally goes on, “… time to become ambidextrous.”

Elsa laughs. A rich, beautiful, musical sound.

And Anna keeps it in her head. She lets it play on repeat—secretly wishes this moment can go on forever.

“Anna?” Elsa calls her name so gently.

She doesn’t speak up; Anna just looks at her and waits.

This action alone gives Elsa so much reassurance, the usual hesitation bottled up within her transcends into confidence. Just a little, though. It is in Elsa’s nature to be reserved, no matter how poised she may be. “Can you do me a favour?”

“What do you need?”

“Come with me later?” Elsa says. “I want to go thank Tadashi and the rest of them for last night.”

So she remembers? “Of course,” she says. “I don’t think I feel comfortable letting you go out alone, anyway.”

“I know you don’t,” the blonde starts stroking Anna’s cheek again, this time with just her thumb. “I… I want you with me this time, if that’s okay.”

Her heart leaps. Anna leans into Elsa’s touch and gives her a nod.

* * *

Wasabi’s room is just two floors down, but Anna’s paranoia tells her that some predator will jump out and attack Elsa at any moment, so her instinct is to stick as close to the blonde as possible. Elsa, obviously, finds it amusing that Anna is playing bodyguard, but can the redhead help it?! Gaston was a total pig! She’s not sure she wants to ask Elsa if she remembers the detail, but she sure as hell remembers his stupid face when he said those disgusting things.

She seems to have gotten caught up with her thoughts, because it takes her a good second or two before she realizes that Elsa’s hand is on her own. Anna looks to the taller girl.

“Is everything okay?”

Anna responds by tightening her grip, running her thumb in small circles on the back of Elsa’s hand. She doesn’t speak—just smiles.

Which is enough for Elsa. She guides the redhead down the hall wordlessly.

For Christmas, the halls are relatively quiet. Anna is half expecting college kids to be passed out on the floor. She thought there would be vomit, spilled drinks, and other gross stuff everywhere. But what she sees instead is a relatively clean pathway. Some rooms have wreaths hanging on them, and while the Christmas fairy lights are not particularly beautiful, they are wrapped around the ceiling lights neatly.

Maybe engineering students are a bit more refined. Or maybe it’s so quiet because everybody is hungover from last night. Anna shrugs to the thought.

They reach their destination, and Anna hears Elsa taking a deep breath before knocking. It’s a gentle, quiet knock. One that can barely be heard.

No sooner than a few heartbeats later, the door swings open, Honey Lemon with a Santa’s hat greeting them with a wide grin. “Elsa, Anna! Oh, my goodness! You guys are here! Ahh!” she does a little squeal, hugging them both. “Oooh, you have to come in! We’re having a mini Christmas party! The boys are pretty hungover though, so just try to talk a bit softer!”

Honey Lemon disappears into the room and the two follows suit. Anna finds the place to be way more cramped than Elsa’s room—probably because of the way everything is laid out or the fact that there are so many people in here. Hiro and Gogo are playing some kind of first-person-shooter game on that seventy-inched TV with, like, no sound on; Wasabi is lying in bed with towel draped over his eyes, Tadashi is lying on the couch with his hat over his face, and Eugene is looking green and unconscious in the beanbag chair next to the couch.

“Where’s Fred?” Elsa asks.

As if on cue, the sound of someone hurling can be heard in the washroom.

“Oh.”

“Ugh… Elsa. Anna. Hi.” Eugene barely manages. “Good to see… you’re up and running.”

He actually sounds like death. If this is what alcohol does to a person, then Anna never wants in.

“E-Elsa’s here?” Tadashi’s voice is rough and dry, almost like he’s swallowed sand. He remains still on the couch but sticks up his hand to wave in the air.

“Guys…” Wasabi starts. He pulls the covers over his head. “… Quiet.”

“Wow,” Anna whispers. “Did they drink that much after we left?”

“Yep,” Gogo says in her monotonous voice. She keeps her eyes on the screen as she continues, “After that creeper was dealt with, the boys just went all out. Well, Honey Lemon's 'cocktails' got something to do with it, of course.”

“What did happen to Gaston, by the way?” Anna asks, holding tight onto Elsa’s hand.

“Oh, y’know,” Gogo shrugs, “Whatever would happen to a student who is in possession of illegal drugs. The evidence was right in the cup—there was no running away.”

“He’ll probably be expelled,” Hiro joins in. He’s also paying attention to the screen and isn’t looking Elsa and Anna’s way. “The fact that he was going to use _that_ drug is questionable in itself, so. Yeah.”

“Thank you, Hiro,” Elsa speaks up. “Thank you. Every one of you. I… I don’t know what I can do to repay you.”

“You can always join our gatherings more often!” Honey Lemon says behind the kitchen counter. It seems she’s making something, as it’s starting to smell really nice. “We really do like hanging out with you, Elsa, but you’re always so busy.”

Tadashi, still lying in the couch, starts waving his hand in the air again. “If it’s because you’re trying to avoid Hiro, I understand completely.”

“Wha—” Hiro snaps at his brother. “What are you talking about?!”

“Just saying. You can get pretty annoying at times.”

“GUYS.” Wasabi hisses. “Please. Quiet.”

Hiro tears his focus away from the screen to glare at the incapacitated and whiny Wasabi, seemingly about to scold him, but in doing so, he sees Anna and Elsa’s joined hands. On instinct, he glances up at Elsa first, to which he immediately darts his eyes away from. Then, he looks to Anna.

In a protective gesture, Anna’s grip on Elsa’s hand tightens.

The boy sighs, but one corner of his lips arches upwards. Slowly, it becomes evident that he’s smiling at the redhead.

It’s almost like Hiro is telling her that _it’s okay._ Or that he’s admitted defeat. Just something profound, because Anna finds herself relieved—like the petty rivalry between them is no more.

She smiles back.

“Good job on calling him out, Anna,” Gogo suddenly says. The game is paused. Anna sees that Hiro’s half of the screen has a giant _you are dead_ splattered across. She could’ve chuckled to the irony.

“Yeah, no kidding!” Honey Lemon says. “But I feel if you just pointed out the state Elsa was in, the consequences for him would’ve been more severe.”

“Oh, but we can’t do that,” Anna says quickly. “Then everyone would know Elsa’s name! She’d be the talk on campus if anyone found out she has fallen victim. I don’t think she would like that. It’s better to say that he tried to spike my drink.”

The blonde tenses. She turns to the shorter girl with a look of concern. “Anna…”

She reassures her with a smile. “Don’t worry,” Anna says. “Nobody knows who I am.”

“Well… half and half,” Gogo shifts on the cushion she’s sitting on. “They don’t know who you are, but they definitely know you two are affiliated.”

“More like _together!”_ Honey Lemon adds in a teasing tone. “Now all the boys are going to stop pursuing you, Elsa!”

Anna blinks. _Ah,_ so Hiro isn’t the only person chasing after the blonde. It’s no surprise, really, but at this point, she can kind of guess why Elsa doesn’t like gatherings. It’s probably because she is so drop-dead-gorgeous to the point that she would attract attention no matter what she does. Maybe she’s gotten tired of it? Hell, if Anna wasn’t there with her last night, Elsa probably would’ve been swarmed by people, and she definitely isn’t the type to like attention.

More importantly.

Did Honey Lemon just say that they’re _together?_

She looks down at their joined hands.

It… like. Anna’s affectionate gestures towards Elsa this morning should have been more than enough to establish their newfound relationship. Elsa’s response, likewise, would have solidified her own feelings. But hearing it from a third party is quite… _hm,_ how should Anna put it? Strange? Unbelievable? _Surreal?_

“Whatever the case,” Hiro says, he hands his controller over to Anna. “You guys wanna stay for a bit? Honey Lemon’s great at cooking.”

Anna turns to the blonde, urging her to be the one to make the decision this time.

There’s no hesitation. Elsa knows not to repeat the mistake from last night, so before speaking, she gives Anna a reassuring nod, “If it isn’t too much trouble,” Elsa says, looking at everyone—unconscious or not—in the room, “we would love to.”

Anna grins. She takes the controller from Hiro and sits down next to him. “What are you guys playing?”

Gogo grabs another controller beside the console and hands it to Hiro as the boy explains the rules of robot fighting. They prepare for a match, and Anna somehow finds joy in seeing how happy Elsa is when she sees her being content; likewise, Anna herself finds it comforting to see Elsa enjoying herself as she helps Honey Lemon out with the cooking.

It’s nothing special, but… it’s warm. Elsa makes her so warm.

* * *

They don’t stay for long, partly because the boys all look like they’re dying, and mostly because Anna knows that, no matter how much Elsa tries to hide it, the girl ultimately enjoys quieter and simpler moments. So, after promptly cleaning up after themselves and helping with the dishes, the two wished everybody a Merry Christmas and headed out. All things considered, the afternoon spent playing games with the group was the most fun Anna’s had in a while. Teaming up with Gogo to play against Hiro and a barely-conscious Tadashi reminds her so much of the times when she played with her cousins during gatherings. Which is fitting, since it is Christmas Day; the tradition is that her family would come over to her house and she would, well, do exactly _this._ Play games and open presents with her cousins. The adults would be somewhere else in the house talking about their businesses and gossips or whatnot.

It’s simple, but nice.

And like every lingering thought she has nowadays, her mind starts to gravitate towards Elsa. What does she do every Christmas? Does she also gather with her family? Have Christmas Breakfast together? Open up presents with everyone? Anna doesn’t know the next thing about Elsa’s background, but she can picture the blonde being very motherly and attentive towards her little cousins—if she had any.

And that’s something she’s starting to doubt.

Because while Anna’s already exchanged her _Merry Christmas’s_ with her family through the phone this morning, she notices that Elsa has not received a single call, a single _text._

Maybe… maybe her family is really busy. Or they’re just out of the country. Elsa’s grandfather certainly sounded busy, considering how he couldn’t even celebrate with his granddaughter for her birthday.

“Anna?” Elsa calls to her. “What are you still doing at the door?”

She blinks. Shakes those thoughts away. Man, she’s spacing out again—gotta stop doing that. “Nothing, just,” she takes off her shoes and heads in, sitting next to Elsa on the couch, “nothing.”

Elsa raises a bemused brow before giving her a wide grin. “I got something for you.”

Anna tilts her head.

The blonde is grinning so hard it reaches her eyes. She fishes for something under the bed and pulls out a small package—wrapped neatly in a glossy light blue and silver Christmas-themed wrapping paper. Observing it more closely, Anna sees that there are patterns of cute little snowmen scattered across the design, and this is all tied nicely together by a deep blue ribbon with a bow at its centre.

“Oh, Elsa, you shouldn’t have! I didn’t…” she pauses. “Wait, how… _when_ did—we’ve been breathing the same air for the past three days! When did you go out to get this?"

Elsa chuckles. She brings the present up to her face to hide her smile. “I got this long ago, actually. I would have given it to you on our last lesson before winter break, but…” she looks out to the window. Anna follows her gaze and sees that the snow is now falling lightly—no longer flurrying. Then, Elsa turns back to her with the same smile. “Open it!”

Anna gives her a playful, suspicious expression before carefully untying the ribbon. It’s so beautifully wrapped that Anna feels bad for opening it. Where she would typically tear the paper apart like a blood-starved animal when she receives presents, right now, she peels it open bit by bit, much like how Elsa did with her gift on her birthday. “Elsa…” her eyes bulge when she sees what it is, “… this…”

“Do you like it?” Elsa asks behind her smile, appearing more excited than the one receiving the gift.

“I…!” Elsa’s gotten her a pair of leg sleeves for basketball. They have this protective padding on the knees that are incredibly sleek and smooth; the material is also very flexible. Anna can tell that this is some high-end stuff. Elsa’s probably spent a while looking for it too, because this brand runs out of stock all the time. Anna takes the gift in her hands and brings it to her chest, literally hugging it as she looks at the other girl.

Elsa probably likes her reaction, because her smile becomes impossibly brighter as her pearly white teeth show. There’s a hint of nervousness in the blonde, though, because she’s started fiddling with her fingers. “I-I just thought… you should have something to protect your knees. You’ve mentioned that you fall a lot during your games, right?” she asks in a quiet voice.

Anna holds onto her present closer to her pounding heart.

“S-so, do you like it?”

 _Well,_ Anna chuckles. If she has to spell it out. “It’s a bit problematic,” she says.

In an instant, Elsa’s expression changes. Like she’s stepped on a landmine or something, the soft tones on her face is replaced with one of concern. “What’s wrong? Is it… oh, I should’ve asked first. You probably don’t need—”

“Elsa,” she interrupts softly, reaching for the blonde’s hand. “What I mean is… it’s problematic, because I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“Oh,” a sigh of relief. Anna actually _sees_ the invisible weight lift off Elsa’s shoulders. But as soon as it disappears, another form of concern fills the blonde. She stiffens, fidgets in her seat, and—once again—refuses to look directly at Anna. “Um, well, you…”

Anna smirks. She scoots closer. “I…?”

Elsa’s shoulders scrunch up to her ears. The pinkness on her rosy cheeks deepens, and her voice comes out in a squeak, “Y-you can always…”

Closer. “Always…”

“Ah… y-you…”

 _Closer._ “I-I…” Anna makes sure to mimic the stutter.

But it makes Elsa pout. It makes her puff her cheeks up in an anger that is in no way threatening. “… You’re doing this on purpose,” she mumbles.

“Doing what on purpose?” Anna bats her eyelids innocently, now just mere inches away from Elsa’s face.

 _“This.”_ Elsa whispers.

“Mm,” Anna feels Elsa’s breath against her lips. They’re so close. If she so much as twitches forward, their lips would touch. But Anna maintains her distance. “Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Elsa’s eyes are half-lidded. They flicker, opening and closing, and Anna is hypnotized. Her free hand reaches up for the redhead’s shirt, gripping onto her collar with a tender strength.

“I was thinking…” Anna continues, “… maybe you can tell me what I should do next.”

Elsa’s lips part. The words are hanging _right there_ but nothing comes out. Her fingers clutching onto Anna’s shirt start trembling, and soon, this radiates all over her—Elsa’s entire body shakes.

Anna knows this, she can feel it. Her hold on Elsa’s hand tightens and she reaches up to cup Elsa’s face. “Elsa,” she calls gently. “Tell me. What should I do next?”

The girl shuts her eyes. Thin brows crease together and she tries. “K-kiss…” their foreheads touch. “… kiss me?”

Anna can’t breathe.

Elsa’s beautiful blue eyes gleam when they open. “Kiss me,” she says once more. “Please.”

She does. Anna has no idea what she’s doing—she has no idea _how_ to do it, but she does. She tilts her head, angling it to feel more. More of Elsa. It’s a chaste, gentle kiss, but it lights everything up. The moment Elsa reciprocates, Anna feels every fibre of her body being set on fire. Colourful sparks explode behind closed eyes, and the sensation is so intense that she thinks if this keeps up, she might just faint.

Reluctantly, she pulls away. Their foreheads remain touched; Anna’s hand is still on Elsa’s cheek, now stroking at her soft skin tenderly. When teal clashes with cerulean, Anna finds it impossible to wipe away the goofy grin. The same goes for Elsa as she, too, is smiling widely, so much like a dork.

“Anna…” Elsa calls her name like it may break. So careful, so elusive.

“Hm?” she responds lightly.

Her eyes dart downwards at their joined hands. Elsa shifts a little to thread their fingers together. “I don’t...” she pauses to sigh.

For a moment, it worries Anna. Was she not good enough of a kisser? Elsa’s probably had lovers in the past who are much better, yeah—no doubt. And, like, she’s never kissed before. Anna likes to think that she did pretty well considering that this is her first kiss.

But then Elsa goes on, interrupting her thoughts, “… I don’t think it’s appropriate to call myself your tutor anymore.”

_Wha—_

Anna blinks.

Oh.

_Ohhhh._

Elsa ducks her head, biting onto her bottom lip.

The grin returns. Anna tries not to look too mischievous as she leans in again so that the tips of their noses would touch. “Then we better come up with something to tell my parents, yes?”

At that, a warm laughter bubbles in Elsa’s chest. She wraps her arms around the redhead’s neck, drawing her closer than ever for a hug, to which Anna responds by returning it fully, completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY i can jump into the fun part: building sexual tension 
> 
> i think it's also time to change the tags/summary a bit. don't be weirded out if you see changes next week! As always, thank you to all who have been commenting/leaving kudos/bookmarking/lurking. it's like i'm an old car on the edge of dying and receiving notifications is like equivalent to getting fuelled up :')


	9. Chapter 9

On the 27th—five days after being stuck on the mountain (and, more importantly, two days after they got _together_ )—the warning is finally called off. They’re informed that it’s safe enough to leave the mountain, and although this should be good news, Anna can’t help but to feel slightly conflicted. 

On the one hand, there is a degree of relief in this, because Anna definitely misses home. But on the other hand, things are going to get difficult from here. All that time they’ve spent sitting so close marathoning through shows, the times when Elsa made her food that she will never forget the taste of, the (two) nights they’ve spent cuddled together (innocently—nothing inappropriate, okay?!) in bed, talking about nothing and everything at once—they’re all going to come to an end.

Once she tells her parents about their relationship, Elsa will no longer be her tutor. And when that happens, her twice-a-week with Elsa will no longer be a thing, and they will actually have to schedule to meet up.

She’s thinking about this as if she will never see Elsa again when, in fact, it should be a good thing that this is happening. After all, they’re a thing now—they’re together, they’re _official._

The voice in her head tells her that she can’t be a kid about this. She can’t live with Elsa forever.

At least, _not yet._

 _But._ Maybe… some time in the future?

At the thought of that, Anna mentally slaps herself. Yeah, right. Thinking about marriage at the age of seventeen. What, does she live in the nineteenth century? Jeez.

… But when she pictures herself coming home to Elsa after school, work, or whatever it is that she has to deal with when she’s older, the sense of comfort is incomparable. Anna sees herself being welcomed by the smell of delicious food, a warm hug, casual conversation, cuddles, followed by some downtime… and then more cuddles.

She’s not asking for much, right? Just a simple life with Elsa. It’s not like she’s aiming for the stars.

Her eyes remain on Elsa’s back. The blonde’s still in her pyjamas. Y’know, with the white short-shorts and the loose blue t-shirt? It’s a sight to behold, really, that’s why Anna isn’t saying anything. Watching the girl rummaging through her closet, trying to pick out the best outfit to wear for the day with that conflicted expression along with the occasional lip-biting is entertaining in itself. To be honest, Anna wants to tell Elsa that she’d look good wearing nothing but a trash bag, but that’s not really going to help.

After all, it is a _meet-the-parents_ night.

Thing is, her parents insisted Elsa to come over for dinner because she _‘took care of their daughter and they must repay the favour.’_

 _Furthermore,_ Anna suggested to Elsa that they should take the opportunity to announce their relationship. Kill two birds with one stone and everything.

And. Yeah. Now, Elsa is freaking out.

She picks out another dress—a flowy, silky blue dress that goes from the waist to just below the thighs. It seems she has a lot of those. “How about this one? Is this one okay?”

Anna nods. “Mhmm. As were the last twenty-something dresses you’ve shown me.”

“Anna, this is serious,” Elsa pouts, holding onto the dress. She’s hugging it so tightly as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. _Gosh,_ Elsa looks so nervous. She’s been pacing around the entire morning, walking back and forth in the room. From the kitchen to the washroom, to the couch, to her bed, back to the kitchen, just— _man._ Anna has got to do something to calm her down.

“Elsa, calm down. My parents love you. You know that, right? Literally. My mom hired you because it was like, what? Love at first sight?” Anna pauses to let the irony sink in. “A-and my dad. Jeez, when he saw you, he looked so freaking proud. I didn’t know why then, but I guess I kinda do now.”

“Proud?” Elsa asks. “Why?”

“Well, because—” Anna gives her a playful eye-roll, one that screams _are you kidding me_? She gestures at all of Elsa. “I mean, have you looked in the mirror recently? He must’ve been proud of his daughter’s tastes,” she says jokingly (but not really).

Elsa tilts her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

She blinks. “I mean… like. Y’know?”

Elsa shakes her head.

_Wait._

Seriously. What else can Anna do but to scoff? Is Elsa just—no. She’s not fishing for compliments; there’s just no way. She would do no such thing. The only explanation is that the girl genuinely, _wholeheartedly_ hasn’t the slightest clue what Anna’s talking about. This quite fittingly encompasses the reason Anna is so heads-over-heels for her. It also covers the fact that Elsa seems to have no idea that wherever she goes, she has the ability to turn heads. Like that time when they walked through the hallways together at school? Or when they were in the suite for the Christmas Eve party? God, Elsa didn’t notice, but Anna sure as hell did. While, yes, sure; Elsa’s beauty is the first thing that caught Anna’s attention, but over time, the redhead can confidently say that she grew fond of Elsa because of how kind, how attentive, and how sweet she is. And, more than anything, Anna wants Elsa to understand this. She wants Elsa to know. So she stands. Makes her way towards the taller girl.

“Anna? What are you…”

Anna takes Elsa’s hand, guiding her towards the mirror on the closet door and turns the girl to face her reflection. “Let go of the dress,” she tells her.

As instructed, Elsa’s hold on the dress loosens. Her arms drape to her sides. Anna stands next to her, watching Elsa through the mirror. It’s quite a transition. From this confused, lost look, Elsa’s expression becomes one of reluctance and shyness, and, contrary to what Anna feels, it appears as though Elsa _doesn’t_ enjoy looking at herself. And, indeed: “A-Anna… why are you having me stand here?”

The redhead sighs. “Are you doing this on purpose? Or do you really not think the figure in the mirror resembles the legends from Greek myths?”

Elsa raises a thin brow. She looks into the mirror— _searches,_ actually, and, in the most innocuous voice, she asks, “You think I look like Medusa?”

“Oh my—” Anna face-palms. “Really?!”

Elsa jumps and gasps like she’s been startled. She holds onto the dress with her dear life as a form of defense mechanism. Her shoulders are raised to her ears and the poor girl is staring intently at her feet, face flushed with worry. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not really good with my classical studies.”

“No, you definitely are not,” Anna speaks gently. So, _so_ innocent. It’s borderline egregious. Elsa is on the opposite end ( _and then some_ ) of vain _._ Yet another facet of Elsa that Anna finds endearing, that she finds so loveable. How ironic is it that Elsa’s flaw is one where she doesn’t realize her own perfection, her own _flawlessness_?

Fine, then.

Anna won’t pressure her; she’ll simply encourage her and let the girl figure it out on her own. In time, maybe Elsa can come to appreciate herself a bit more. She breathes out, walks up to snake her arms around Elsa’s slim waist to hold onto the dress for the taller girl to see. “Blue makes your eyes stand out.”

Elsa relaxes a little when Anna embraces her like this. It’s something that Anna’s noticed, by the way; Elsa tends to soften up whenever they hug. She’s like a child, in need of the warmth that can only be provided through physical contact. Like she’s deprived of it. And it’s really, _really_ cute.

But there is an undeniable thread of hesitation. Elsa would relax—yes, but not completely. She holds stiff and would only lean in a bit—as if invisible shackles are holding her back, restricting her. She’s not making this up; Elsa never initiates. Literally. She freezes when Anna tries kissing her again since that first one two days ago. When their lips touch, she turns rigid. She would always look for something to hold onto—the fabric of the seat, Anna’s shirt—just something. It’s only after several heartbeats would Elsa finally let loose, finally kiss back.

“Anna?”

She looks up. Their eyes meet in the mirror.

Elsa smiles. But it’s so delicate and faint; like it will collapse and shatter into a million pieces if Anna so much as nudges her a little.

Anna wishes she knows what’s going on in the girl’s head.

“Is something wrong?” Elsa asks softly.

To which Anna responds by returning the smile with one of her own; she moves in to hold Elsa a bit more securely, wrapping her arms carefully around Elsa’s waist. She presses her lips over one of Elsa’s clothed shoulder and breathes in— _lets the smell of lavender envelop her_ —all the while keeping her eyes on the blonde’s. “Nothing,” she finally says. “I just wanted to hug you.”

Elsa giggles. “How long is this hug going to be? I still need to pick out a top.”

“Mm. How about…” she mumbles, buries herself deeper in Elsa’s shoulder. “Until you kiss me?”

It was a joke, really, but Elsa’s so responsive. She lowers her head, bites on her lip, and looks away from their reflection. Anna waits, patient with Elsa’s reaction because she doesn’t want to push her. Will _never_ push her.

And slowly, like the soft snowflakes drifting calmly from the skies, Elsa turns, circling her arms around Anna’s neck.

Anna greets her with a smile. Loosens her grip on the dress she’s been holding onto and lets it fall to the ground. She lets her hands glide upwards from Elsa’s waist to her shoulder blades, resting them there, where her fingers run small circles along the expanse of the blonde’s back.

Elsa sighs to the sensation. The look of worry and uncertainty is replaced with a faint smile and she leans in, letting their foreheads touch. Elsa’s eyelids finally drop, and she presses their lips together. 

Anna, just as well, closes her eyes and lets the blonde lead.

It’s nothing at first. Elsa’s still, frozen in time, but then she tilts her head and the kiss deepens. Anna can’t fight the grin; she parts her mouth to breathe, and Elsa, likely emboldened, moves in for more. They nibble at each other’s lips, sucking gently and Anna feels Elsa’s fingers combing through her loose hair. Likewise, she herself is involuntarily scratching at the blonde’s back.

And this continues for god-knows-how-long, because by the time they pull apart, their breaths are laboured, cheeks flushed.

It’s so warm and tender each time it happens. They remain this way, wrapped in each other’s embrace with the tips of their noses and foreheads touching, grinning like idiots until one of them decides to let go.

“… Was that okay?” Elsa finally asks.

Anna nods eagerly, licking her lips.

“Then… um. Anna, I need to…”

A soft laughter builds in her chest. Anna can’t resist; she moves in and gives Elsa a peck on the cheek before pulling away at last. “You’d look good in anything, Elsa,” she says, picking up the dress she’s dropped to hand it back to the blonde. “Just choose something comfortable.”

Elsa takes the dress. She gives Anna this _you’re not helping_ frown while rubbing the spot where she’s been kissed. And Anna, in turn, tries her hardest to not run back up there so that she may kiss her again.

* * *

Like, when Elsa asked her what her parents liked, she didn’t think by answering _‘wine’_ would bring her to this part of town. Now, they’re in this bougie, fancy-looking part of the city that she never knew existed in her short, seventeen years of living here. Elsa’s gone into this extravagant liquor store to pick up something, and since Anna isn’t allowed to go in, she’s left in the car, watching the tiny snowflakes fall and people shoveling snow out of the walkways.

She thinks about wasting time by texting Rapunzel and Mulan and updating them on what’s happened in the past two days, but… _nah._ That’s too much explaining. They’ll know when they know.

She fiddles with the media control in the car, changing the music volume, the song, and even the lighting system. Elsa herself told Anna that she can do whatever she wants, so as long as she doesn’t drive the car away, so Anna is really just experimenting. And, in the process, she discovers that literally every song on the playlist is something piano, orchestral, symphonic. There is the occasional vocalized ballad, but if she had to calculate, perhaps about ninety percent of the music in here is instrumental? Elsa sure loves her piano tunes, Anna thinks.

The car door to the driver seat suddenly opens, startling Anna. She adjusts her posture and sits properly again. “Looks cold out there,” she comments as Elsa sits down. “What’d you end up getting?”

Elsa brushes the tiny snowflakes off her shoulders but forgets that they can stick to her hair as well. The little crystals cling onto her white-gold hair and works in her favour as beautiful decorations. “You said we are having seafood tonight, yes?” she passes the bottle, wrapped in an elegant white cloth with a red bow tied around the neck to Anna, “I got a white. I hope your parents will like it.”

Anna chuckles. She takes it from Elsa and holds onto it as she puts on her seatbelt. “Like I said, they’ll like anything from you, Elsa.”

“I don’t know,” she starts the car. “It’s kind of hard to like anything about me.”

Elsa says it so loosely, so half-heartedly that Anna, in that moment, is confident that she’s joking.

And so, she brushes Elsa’s comment off and just continues to watch the snow fall gently as the car moves.

* * *

“Do I look okay?” Elsa asks, straightening her dress with one hand and brushing out her braid over her shoulder with another. “I… I should’ve worn something more formal after all, shouldn’t I? A longer dress, or… ah, a blouse…”

While Anna herself is somewhat nervous about the whole revelation of their relationship, she is at least not trembling over it. She takes a deep breath, partly to calm herself down, but more so to reassure Elsa. “I swear to god, Elsa,” Anna says, brushing a loose strand of platinum blonde behind Elsa’s ear. And then her palm stops to frame the taller girl’s pink cheek. “It’s just a dinner, not a job interview. You have to relax.”

Elsa’s jaw flexes. Like she wants to say something but doesn’t know _how._ Slowly, she brings a hand up to hold onto Anna’s. Again with the hesitant smile before she sighs. “Okay,” Elsa whispers. She pulls Anna’s hand away from her cheek and stands tall. “Okay. I’m ready. I think.”

“Okay,” Anna nods. She lets go of the blonde’s hand. They’re not supposed to walk in as a couple. Have to do it properly; declare it through words, because—according to Elsa—she wants her parents’ approval before they actually see them _together_ together.

Which sounds a bit too formal and official. It’s almost as if Elsa’s asking her parents for their blessing of their marri—

_Wait, what?_

Again with the whole _marriage_ thing, _damn it._

Elsa’s just… she’s just a really reserved, traditional, formal, and polite girl. Everything she does needs to be precise, planned out, and perfect. Obviously, being the mature one, Elsa’s thought this through; to leave a good impression (not that it’s necessary. But this is important to Elsa, so), she’s going to need to present herself in the best way possible. Therefore, announcing their relationship this way is the… most… viable? A-and, _er,_ marriage has nothing to do with this.

_Yeah, but!_

It doesn’t excuse the fact that now, Anna’s the one trembling! God, why did her mind have to wander? Why did she have to think about the M word? The more she thinks about this, the more she’s starting to freak out! _God!_ So much for being _somewhat_ nervous. Now her heart is fighting to leap out of her chest! Ugh.

“Anna,” Elsa catches her attention.

She turns to her.

“Are you going to ring the doorbell or…?”

“Oh, right. Yes.” She reaches for the button. Technically, Anna can just open the door with her keys, but she’s too lazy to fish them out of her bag.

A figure soon comes up behind the frosted glass and the door opens. The decorative wreath hanging on it shakes at the sudden movement, and they are greeted by Anna’s mother.

“Anna, Elsa!” she calls happily.

“Hi, mom,” Anna grins, running in for a hug.

“Aw,” her mother chuckles, returning the hug while patting her daughter’s head. “I hope you didn’t cause Elsa too much trouble.” She gestures for the two to enter the warm house.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Elsa says quickly. “Anna was very sweet. I enjoyed her… her company.”

Anna feels a blush forming from her neck up.

“She can be quite the companion at times,” Iduna says, “but when she starts rambling…”

“Hey! I don’t ramble,” she stops to think for a second, “… that much.”

Her mother and Elsa laugh to her statement, and then the latter goes on, “Oh, please forgive me, Iduna. This isn’t much, but…” she hands over the neatly wrapped wine bottle to the woman, “Anna told me that you and your husband enjoy wine. I am not quite knowledgeable on this regard, so I do hope this is to your liking.”

“Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t have!” she takes it from Elsa’s hands carefully, “I invited you over to thank you for taking care of my daughter, and now you’re giving us a gift? Elsa, you’re too kind.”

She smiles. “Anna took care of me a great deal. I… I don’t know what I would do without her for the past few days.”

 _Oof, wow._ That was direct. Is this Elsa’s grand plan? To reveal the truth bit by bit? In all fairness, it is quite smart.

“Is that so?” her mother says, eyeing both girls with a… _hm._ Anna doesn’t want to identify it as a _knowing_ smile, but sometimes she forgets that her mother is perceptive as hell, so…

“I’m, uh…” Anna clears her throat. “I’m going to get changed. How long until dinner time?”

“It’s about ready,” Iduna says. “I need you to come help set up the table, so don’t take too long.”

“I can help with that,” Elsa offers. 

“Oh, no. Elsa, you’re a guest, I can’t have you—”

“No, I must insist…”

This argument seems far too familiar, and she’s certain that it will go on for some time, considering how stubborn both Elsa and her mother are. Anna rolls her eyes and slips upstairs. She strips out of everything she’s wearing and throws a baggy purple sweater over herself. She opts for a pair of black leggings and takes a glance at the mirror to comb through her loose hair.

 _Meh,_ this is good enough. She’s not eating out or anything, so who cares.

When she is downstairs, she is glad to see that her mother and Elsa are no longer caught in that pointless dispute; they’ve already gone into the kitchen. Once Anna enters the dining room, she sees that the table is set up nicely—utensils laid out neatly next to the dinner plates and all—and several of the dishes are already on display. And, wow, her mother really went all out. There’s lobster, baked salmon, some salad, garlic bread… is she trying to make up for Christmas dinner? Wouldn’t be surprising; her mother loves cooking for large parties. Anna bets that her mother was disappointed to have only her father as an audience on the 25th.

“Sauvignon Blanc?” Her father’s voice comes along, “What a brilliant selection! This would be perfect for tonight’s meal!”

Just then, her father and Elsa come out from the doorway to the kitchen, with him eyeing the wine bottle like it’s some lost treasure. He’s barely watching his step, and Elsa’s just smiling shyly beside him.

“Hey, dad.”

“Anna!” he exclaims. “Wow, Elsa sure has fed you well. You look a bit more plump than usual.”

“Wha…!” Anna grimaces. “I haven’t seen you for five days, and _this_ is the first thing you say to me?!”

Agnarr’s laughter echoes in the room. He takes a seat across from Anna. “I’m joking, kid. If anything, you look healthier,” he smirks. “It’s like you’re radiating.”

She scrunches her face in suspicion. Why is her father waggling his eyebrows like that…? Confused, Anna turns to Elsa who has taken a seat beside her, and she looks equally as lost.

“Agnarr, honey, stop teasing them,” her mother is the last one to come out of the kitchen. She’s carrying this large, porcelain bowl that Anna recognizes is one of her mother’s secret weapon—as in, she only uses this to make the best of the best. Not even knowing what it is, Anna’s mouth starts to water. When her mother sets it down, she sees large, juicy, _fatty_ clams. It’s garnished with lemon slices, bits and pieces of parsley and green onion, and it smells delightful with the steaming chicken broth filling the air.

“Oh, my, this looks delicious!” Elsa says. “I see where Anna’s gotten her cooking talents from.”

“Ah, you’ve experienced my daughter’s fine cooking skills as well,” Agnarr states proudly. “She is quite good, isn’t she?”

“She is incredible!” Elsa states with enthusiasm. “Anna was so modest; she wouldn’t believe that I was being genuine,” she glares at the redhead, non-threatening and all.

“Elsa, it was just an omelette,” Anna laughs.

“The best I’ve ever had,” Elsa counters.

The table breaks into a soft laughter and soon, they help themselves to the meal. Her father courteously pours everyone a fair amount of wine; he even permits Anna to drink a little, which he claims is okay because she’s surrounded by responsible adults. Well. Anna isn’t going to argue with that, because Elsa’s certainly picked something sweet enough to her liking. It pairs exquisitely with the food that her mother has made, like a match made in heaven.

The conversation drifts from the ingredients used to make the meal to other, not so interesting subjects—such as school and whatnot. Elsa, despite being so shy, is a very good speaker. Anna has learned that through their lessons, of course, but the past few days living with Elsa kind of contributed in making her forget about this side of the blonde. The real Elsa is quiet and reserved, but when presenting herself in front of an audience, she is composed but never comes off as authoritative. Once again, it probably has something to do with the way she sits. All stiff and everything. Anna can never do that—it looks painful on the back.

“… Speaking of universities,” her father looks to her sternly, “Anna, have you submitted your applications yet?”

“Yes, I have, dad,” she grumbles. “I did it, like, back in November.”

“How many schools did you apply to?” Elsa asks out of curiosity.

“Five or so? Maybe six? I don’t remember.”

“You could always apply for more,” her mother joins in. “The deadlines are usually around mid-January, no? You’ve got plenty of time to write more applications.”

“I mean,” Anna shrugs. “Eugene—oh, he’s a friend of Elsa’s I met up at NMU—he gave me suggestions about universities with good law programs. I’ll look into them soon, don’t worry.”

“We’re not worrying,” Iduna states. “Not one bit. But it’s still part of our duty as parents to be fussy, you know?”

Agnarr laughs. “That’s right. No matter how successful your children become, your parents will always be interrogating you about the most trivial of things. Isn’t that the same for you, Elsa? You’re so bright and independent, but I’m sure your parents still nag from time to time.”

_…_

_Hm?_

There is this… _shift_ in the air. Anna knows it, she feels it, because her heart suddenly drops. There is a pang in her head and it all happens in the span of a millisecond—barely, even. But this all happens because at the corner of her eyes, Anna sees Elsa twitch. Just a little. There’s barely any movement at all. Anna turns to look at the blonde, who has reverted back to that small, vulnerable posture. Her left hand grasps onto her right tensely; her throat bobs, jaw flexes, _stiff._ She is so stiff.

“My parents…” Elsa starts.

No control. Anna’s lost it. Some force that is beyond her control pushes her to reach for Elsa. And she does. Anna reaches for Elsa’s hands, resting on top of the blonde’s _very_ tensed ones and this grabs Elsa’s attention.

She raises her head, looks to Anna, and finally, _finally,_ she relaxes a little. Anna can see her shoulders fall slightly and the apprehension in her expression has seemingly been reduced to a minimum.

Elsa forces a smile. “They… um,” _swallows,_ “They died when I was very young.”

An involuntary strength courses through her. Anna’s grip on Elsa’s hand becomes firmer, and she feels the need to never let go, as exaggerated as it may sound. She fears that if she did, Elsa may break— _she_ herself may break.

“Oh, Elsa… I’m so sorry…” her father says.

“It’s okay—really!” Elsa says with a kind smile. “It was a long time ago. I was eight, and… well, it’s fine. Please, don’t let this topic ruin the mood.”

But she doesn’t sound all that reassuring. Both Anna’s parents are suddenly appearing more solemn than they do. Even much more than when they face their clients. She’s never seen them like this—like they’re stricken with grief. But she understands; she knows what they’re thinking: Elsa is the warmest, sweetest, kindest person. How can this have happened to her? Images of a young Elsa struggling to cope, to get through the tragedy surge through Anna’s mind. And it’s getting so hard to hold back tears.

And then there’s her grandfather.

The one who didn’t even celebrate her birthday or Christmas with her.

_Why?_

Normally, wouldn’t one become more protective, more attentive if this were to happen? Anna knows that if something like this happened to her granddaughter, she would do her absolute best to spend every waking moment with her.

It… it’s so confusing. The more she thinks about it, the more infuriating she feels.

And Elsa seems to know this. Because she’s turned her hand, allowing their fingers to intertwine, thread together carefully. Anna looks up to see the same, faint, yet beautiful smile. Somehow, seeing this smile now is giving her a whole new perspective. Like the missing part of Elsa—the mysterious, the unknown, the untouchable side that she’s been trying to uncover—is slowly surfacing.

But Anna isn’t sure if she’s ready to see the complete picture. 

“… What did they do, Elsa?” her mother’s voice is soft, just delicate enough to break the silence.

Elsa’s smile widens a little, because it’s so obvious that the topic of her parents gives her joy. “They were musicians. My mother played the piano, and my father, the cello.”

“That sounds so romantic,” Anna’s mother continues. “Did you ever learn to play an instrument yourself?”

“Yes, but I,” Elsa chuckles. “I broke my father’s cello when I was three because I wasn’t strong enough to hold it upright. They ended up getting me one of my size, but that was when I developed an interest in piano.”

“Ah, so you can play both?” Agnarr asks.

“I’m better with the piano, but yes, I can play both.”

“You should play for us some time,” Iduna suggests. “Anna doesn’t have nearly enough patience to sit through a single lesson, so that never worked out.”

“Oh?” Elsa says. She turns back to the redhead. “You tried taking piano lessons?”

Anna looks at the blonde tenderly and nods once, wordless.

“Maybe you just didn’t get the right teacher,” Elsa says. “That is very important when it comes to music.”

“Perhaps we can hire you to become Anna’s piano teacher?” Agnarr laughs. “Though, I am quite certain that it is going to be problematic, seeing how your math lessons are not exactly working out, either.”

At that, Anna and Elsa turn to the two adults, eyes wide in an implicit shock.

“W-what do you mean?” Anna asks.

Their reaction speaks volumes, because Iduna soon laughs along with her husband. “What we mean, Anna dear, is that I am about to lose a bet if you two don’t come clean soon.”

Her eyes flutter. A bet? _What?_

“Oh, come on,” Agnarr reaches for his wine glass and starts swirling the contents as he eyes his wife cockily. “That’s cheating. You’re not supposed to make it so obvious. They have to tell us themselves!”

“Honey, you know they’re going to do it within today. You were betting on the wrong horse the moment you decided to play.”

He shrugs. “Just didn’t think our daughter had it in her to tell us herself.”

Oh, _okay._ Anna grunts. _Alright._

If they’re going to have so little faith in their own daughter. _Well._ Anna would roll up her sleeves if she weren’t holding onto Elsa’s hands, but thing is, she’s _holding onto Elsa’s hands_ and there is no way in hell she is letting go _._ So. This will do. She sits up straight.

“Mom, dad,” she begins.

Elsa spins to Anna, to Anna’s parents, back to Anna. In the process, strands of Elsa’s white-gold hair, kept up so neatly, fall to frame her face. “A-Anna, um…”

But Anna interrupts her, “There’s something you need to know,” she says confidently, bringing up their connected hands, “Elsa and I are dating.”

Elsa squeaks, sounding like nothing but a frightened little bunny. Her shoulders shoot right up to her ears and she starts trembling, lowering her head to, Anna guesses, hide her crimson cheeks.

 _Huh_. Anna smiles. So much for being the one to tell her parents. Elsa doesn’t look like she has the will to even bring her head up right now.

“Hm,” her mother smirks. She opens up a palm in front of her husband. “Pay up.”

Agnarr rolls his eyes. He reaches for his back pocket for his wallet, taking out… _wait._ Not one or two or three or _four,_ but FIVE hundred-dollar bills…!? What the hell!

“I can’t believe you guys.” Anna mutters.

Elsa shifts beside her. At last, she raises her head; though it looks like she’s using all of her willpower to do it, but she’s doing it nonetheless. “Ah… I’m—I…”

“Aw, poor thing,” Iduna leans in. “Elsa, we’re so sorry that you got caught up in this, but we’re really just playing. I apologize if we’ve offended you—”

“N-no! Not at all! I should be the one to apologize! After all, I’m supposed to be Anna’s tutor, but I—”

 _God,_ she’s not going to finish that sentence, is she?!

“—it’s so unprofessional of me, and I… I’m really, really sorry!” Elsa says everything in one go, one breath, and then she ducks her head. Like she’s bowing. “I understand that I can no longer be her tutor, but, please,” she looks up, right hat Anna’s parents, reddened cheeks, trembling body and all, and she continues, as sincerely as possible, “I want… I want to be with your daughter. She’s…” Elsa turns to face Anna and her voice softens, “… Anna is really important to me.”

She hears herself gasp.

Her parents fall silent, speechless.

The sheer determination in Elsa’s voice—holy shit. And those gentle eyes brimming with a crystal-blue radiance. Anna wants to melt—no, she _will_ melt, _is_ melting. To think that Elsa’s taking this so seriously. To think that her first is so amazing. God. What did Anna do in her previous life to deserve this? Probably donated her entire fortune to charity. Donated all her organs while _alive,_ perhaps? Like—

“Wow,” Iduna, with an expression that is filled with love and joy and all the positive terminologies one may think of, grabs onto her husband’s hand. “I don’t remember you getting my parents all quiet like this when we announced our relationship.”

“Yeah, well…” Agnarr forces a half-hearted smile, “You didn’t exactly move my parents to tears, either.”

And while the two adults are caught in their little conversation, Anna has all her attention on the blonde. It fascinates her; the way Elsa looks like she’s on the verge of tears—likely due to embarrassment? But, yeah, Elsa is probably the one, true, eighth wonder of the world. Forget the Stonehenge, Machu Picchu, the International Space Station—because although Anna has never seen those places in person, she knows that nothing can ever compare to the reverence that is Elsa.

“Anna…?”

She smiles at the blonde. “Hmm?”

“Please don’t take it as a joke, okay?” Elsa says softly, “I was—I am being serious.”

 _Oh, god. Damn_. This is probably what a heart attack feels like. She can’t help it. Anna takes Elsa’s hands and cradles them with her own. She presses her lips onto Elsa’s knuckles and stays there—because she’s running out of ways to express her feelings. Running out of gestures. Running out of breath. But when everything calms down, when Anna feels confident enough to speak through her shaky voice, she raises her head, looks straight into Elsa’s lovely eyes and mouths, _I know._

Elsa beams, and Anna decides that it is when she smiles like this does she look the most beautiful _._

* * *

“That went better than expected,” Anna says, flopping onto her bed. They’ve helped with the cleaning and such, and her mother shooed them out of the kitchen when Elsa wanted to help with the dishes. She instructed Anna to keep Elsa entertained while she prepares the dessert.

And so, they are upstairs in Anna’s room, having nothing particular interesting to do as they wait.

“Elsa?” Anna calls to the blonde, who is standing awkwardly at the doorway. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, I was just…” she takes a step in. “The last time I came in here, I was still your tutor.”

Anna laughs. “You’re still worrying about that? Come here,” she pats the empty space beside her.

Elsa straightens her dress before sitting down.

Anna finds it a luxury to be able to lean into the blonde’s shoulder whenever she wants now that they’re official. And she does just that, giving Elsa a sideways-hug in the meanwhile. Her arms circle around Elsa’s tiny waist securely, and she buries her face in the blonde’s neck.

“You really like hugs, don’t you?” Elsa giggles, wrapping an arm around the shorter girl.

“Only if they’re from you,” Anna’s voice is muffled against Elsa’s skin. She takes a deep breath and pulls away, resting her chin on Elsa’s shoulder. And she just stares, teal eyes boring into Elsa’s blue ones as she wonders.

As she _pictures_.

Elsa, as a little girl, alone.

Elsa, growing up, scared.

Elsa, here and now, in need of a hug.

That’s all Anna knows. That’s all she can do for her.

“Elsa,” she calls in a whisper, brushing those soft, platinum-blonde locks away from her eyes.

“Yes?”

Anna remains still. The warmth that wraps around them seeps into her skin, but it’s not an unbearable sensation; it is a gentle and undeniably addictive moment. Something that cannot be felt anywhere else unless it is in Elsa’s grasp. Once more, she buries herself in Elsa’s neck and inhales. “You smell nice,” she murmurs, the lavender scent she adores so much filling her senses.

“W-we… we’ve been using the same bodywash for the past five days. You should smell the s-same… as I do…”

Anna finds that whenever she breathes into Elsa’s skin, the blonde would shiver. Anna imagines it’s like having a tingle running down the spine. Maybe more intense. She’s not sure; she just knows that it’s not a bad sensation. It’s something that makes one yearn for more—it’s unyieldingly addictive.

And she wants Elsa to feel good.

So she nuzzles higher. Up the tendons of Elsa’s neck—and it’s strange—the blonde gives way, tossing her head back, eyes closed in repose. Her lips are parted and she’s breathing, so, _so_ heavily. Her chest heaves, up and down, up and down. Anna stops at Elsa’s ear, where she kisses at the earlobe, lingers a little to _suck—_

_“Anna…!”_

And that just— _holy shit—_ wow. That sparked something in Anna. Elsa’s voice just now—it’s… _god._ She wants to hear it again. _Needs_ to hear it again. Anna does it one more time. She nibbles at the same spot, sucking it until it turns red.

And Elsa.

She grips onto Anna’s shirt with her dear life as her breath becomes increasingly laboured. The aforementioned warmth that envelops her grows into a singeing, throbbing heat, radiating from her chest. It spreads throughout her body, pulsing _downwards._

Anna doesn’t want to say specifically _where,_ but.

But seeing Elsa so vulnerable, so red, so _beautiful,_ she can’t help it anymore.

Elsa gasps.

Anna’s pushed her onto the bed, pinning her down with her weight. Because Elsa doesn’t resist, because Elsa is looking at her with such wide, vulnerable eyes, with such anticipation, Anna leans in. The latent, primitive desire unleashes, and Anna is using the last of her willpower to keep herself in check. First a simple peck on the lips, followed by nibbles. They tug at each other’s lips gently, as if testing each other’s strength, and when Elsa parts her lips to breathe, Anna _thrusts._

“Mmm…!” Elsa’s grip on her shirt tightens. Her body tenses, and Anna is painfully aware of the fact that she is between Elsa’s parted legs. Her tongue pushes in, as do her hips; Elsa is stiff for a good second, but then she finally moves along Anna’s tongue. Her hands clenching onto Anna’s shirt loosen, and they snake up, fingers combing frantically through Anna’s fiery red hair.

Anna herself has this undying need to have more. More of _Elsa._ Their mouths are connected, their bodies are flushed, they can’t physically get any closer, but she craves for _more._

Clothes. It’s the clothes—it’s the only barrier between them. Anna kisses deeper, thrusts her hips closer; a groan echoes in the room, and she isn’t sure whether it came from Elsa or herself, but _no_ —doesn’t matter. Not important. Anna’s hands find their way at the hem of Elsa’s shirt, and she doesn’t bother to wait, nor does she want to ask. She slips in, feeling Elsa’s smooth skin, where her palms run up the blonde’s curves. Elsa’s abdomen tenses, and Anna can feel it now—although she’s soft to touch, Elsa is undoubtedly fit. Like. Healthy. Kind of toned.

Well, she did mention that she does a lot of yoga.

 _Ahh_ —Anna wants to see. She wants to see more. _More of Elsa._

Her hands glide up higher, until she reaches the wires of Elsa’s bra where she stops. Reluctantly, she pulls away—a strand of saliva hangs between their mouths and they pant like dogs in heat. Elsa is impossibly red right now, while Anna is quite certain that she looks about the same.

At every waking moment Anna catches the sight of a disheveled Elsa, the heat inside intensifies. Her core burns, and the desire boils over the cauldron. Anna just might spontaneously combust.

“A-Anna…” Elsa whimpers. Her voice is high, like it’s easily going to crack. She keeps her eyes on Anna’s lips.

“Yeah?” she breathes.

“We…” her fingers play with the tiny hairs on the back of Anna’s neck, where she just tugs delicately. “… we shouldn’t.”

 _Yes,_ Anna knows. Of course they shouldn’t. Not like this. Not when their relationship means so much more than just _this_. Anna cherishes it, and she knows that Elsa does as well, because they both know that there is so much room to grow. She can’t let her impulses take over; can’t be a hormonal teenager over this. For Elsa, she has to be mature.

“I’m sorry,” Anna whispers against Elsa’s lips. She takes the opportunity to kiss her one more time. Just lightly. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you. And it—yeah.”

Elsa sighs. She returns the kiss with one of her own—albeit even more lightly. Elsa runs a hand along Anna’s cheek, fingertips grazing along her skin. “I know,” she says. “And I’m glad you did, but… your parents, they’re just downstairs.”

“Yeah,” Anna says dumbly. She refuses to pull away. One more. Just one more kiss.

“ _Mmn…_ ” Elsa moans into her mouth. “Anna… stop,” she says that, but she’s returning the kiss.

_Kiss._

The blonde giggles. “Anna…”

Last one. “Okay, okay,” _kiss._ She laughs. “No more.”

Elsa’s giggles become more pronounced. She actually sounds like a child being tickled. Like that night when Anna tickled her. _So cute._

Anna helps her up, pulling her from the bed and they’re sitting upright again. “Wanna head down?” She asks as she stands, giving Elsa a hand.

“Yes,” Elsa takes it. “Let me just…” she stands in front of Anna and helps the shorter girl straighten out her shirt, fixes her hair that has gone unkempt.

Anna mimics Elsa’s actions and helps her out as well. She runs her fingers through the soft tresses, setting them back in place—the way Elsa likes it, and grins. “Perfect.”

Another giggle. Elsa hides her smile behind a hand, and she makes her way out of the room. Her steps, confident.

Anna follows closely behind, letting it hit her now that this is the happiest she’s seen Elsa.

She just wants her to be like this forever.

Wants Elsa to be happy.

As much as Elsa makes her feel so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could be a real asshole and change the rating to T and end it right here, but.
> 
> you guys are the nicest, warmest, MOST BEAUTIFUL commenters in the world. i thought this fandom was supposed to be toxic?? how wrong i am :')


	10. Chapter 10

Okay.

 _Okay._ So.

Lights off, parents asleep, earphones in, browser opened (incognito mode!). Anna clears her throat. Her fingers hover above the keyboard of her phone and she is about to do it. For the first time in her young life, she’s _going to do it!_ I-it’s okay—it’s completely fine. Everyone does it. It’s unnatural that she’s only _just_ doing it. So she has got to stop freaking out and just _do it already!_ Anna takes a deep breath, clears her throat again, and starts typing.

_P…_

Okay, done. That’s… not bad. Just keep going. Go.

_O…_

Ugh—why is she typing so damn slowly?!

_R…_

Almost there. It’s even popping out in the autofill on the search bar, but she has to see this through manually!

_N…_

It’s there. It’s _right freaking there_ and all she has to do is press ‘enter’ to let autofill finish the job, but Anna is stubborn and she clambers through like some child struggling to stand up. As if typing it all out in her own effort is sucking the lifeforce out of her or something. It’s honestly so dumb, just…!

_HUB._

There! She did it! First link. She jams her thumb at the screen and is led straight to the homepage with all those… _naked_ people with really big… uh… _oh god,_ why are they all so zoomed in?! _Ew ew ew ew_ , this is disgusting! How can their dicks be so big?! Oh god, and breasts that size—wouldn’t it hurt her back? _Oh god oh god oh god—_

Too gross. _Egh._

Anna opens up another browser and thinks of another strategy. They say porn tends to exaggerate things anyway, so if she wants to ‘learn’ how to do it…

Okay. _Alright_. For science.

Typing in _‘how to pleasure females’,_ she gets a list of… what should this even be called? Techniques? Whatever. Techniques, sure. So, you’re supposed to ‘stimulate her mentally’, ‘touch her tenderly’, ‘kiss her as much as possible (but not overboard)’, and most importantly, to ‘talk’. Well, okay. That doesn’t sound that hard. If stimulating ‘mentally’ simply means to be intimate, Anna’s already halfway there. After all, hugs are considered intimate, right? ‘Tender touch’ can also fall into the hugging category… kissing is—yeah, a bit harder, but it’ll work out—and… talking. Can’t forget to talk.

With that out of the way.

Anna clears her throat again. She switches back to the previous browser, coming back to… _that_ site. She ignores the recommended-slash-suggested listing because nothing there seems vanilla enough for what she wants to do with— _erm._ With… Elsa. That’s right. She’s doing all of this, going against all her virtues and innocence for that girl. N-not because she wants to have sex with her! Nothing superficial like that. Just… closer. She wants to be closer. Okay, _well_ , maybe she wants to—just _a bit_? And if she’s going to do it, she wants to do her best. So what’s wrong with getting prepared? Elsa’s so pretty and smart and nice, Anna’s pretty sure Elsa’s dated a couple people before herself. Which means she’s experienced on _that_ regard. Which means Anna needs to step up her game. Elsa deserves the best of the best, and Anna will deliver just that.

And so, Anna types in the first thing that comes to mind. _‘Female orgasm’_.

… it’s so stupid. She’s actually trying to study off _porn_ of all things. Ugh. She selects a random video with an above eighty percent rating, and _okay,_ she’s not even going to bother with the plot. The guy is delivering pizza and now they’re in bed? Like, what? They kiss a lot, blah blah blah. A lot of hugging, okay, got it. And then— _holy shit,_ what the hell, the guy is… he’s massive! How the heck does it fit in her— _oh._ Oh, it just slips right in. That’s weird; Anna thinks that there would be more resistance. And, god, is she in pain? Why is she screaming so loudly?! But she’s moving along, responding to his thrusts and she’s spreading her legs so wide. The woman—while nowhere as pretty as Elsa—is blonde and kind of attractive. The way she shuts her eyes in pleasure, throws her head back to expose her neck—the way the guy on top of her holds her close, the way he trails his lips to everywhere he can reach, Anna thinks that the woman is feeling _good_ at the very least, right?

Maybe… next time she kisses Elsa, she can do something like this? M-minus the dick, of course. God. Anna doesn’t have a dick.

The female’s voice rises, the male is moving faster, and Anna assumes that they’re reaching their climax. Okay, this is getting interesting. She herself feels a bit heated, but she isn’t turned on—it’s akin to the feeling of watching an action movie, if she had to compare. Like the protagonist and the antagonist are in their final battle, charging at each other, about to make a grand impact to—

 _Wait._ Wait, hold on—the guy stopped! He pulled out—what is he doing?! The woman looks like she’s in distress, like if he didn’t continue, she would break down into tears. So she reaches for him to continue, but he’s moved down to… oh. Oh! _Okay._ This makes sense. Wow. The woman’s no longer screaming and stuff; rather, she’s moaning. Sensual, breathy, and arguably sexy gasps are coming out of her as the guy performs this thing on her with his mouth. He’s licking and nibbling, sucking and even biting. The woman squirms, but she moves into him, as if craving for more. She _is_ craving for more.

And Anna realizes; she sounds… she sounds like Elsa when they were making out that night. The little breaths of air that Elsa took each time Anna kissed her; that one, particular gasp when she sucked on the older girl’s earlobe. It is not unlike Elsa. S-so if… if Anna were to do this to her, would she feel as good?

 _Oh man,_ she doesn’t know. Anna’s scared to know. Like, all she knows is that she wants to be good for Elsa, to be able to make her feel good on every aspect, and that of course includes sex.

So, she will salvage every possible way to become better. For Elsa.

… Even if it means to watch porn. Which is really freaking weird and stupid, but what other ways can she—

_Bzz bzz_

Her grip on her phone loosens and she drops it onto her face—“Ow!”—not that it’s particularly heavy, but it still hurt. She rubs the bridge of her nose and prays that it won’t be bruised while checking the notification.

 _‘Anna, are you asleep yet?’_ —from Elsa. Oh! It’s from Elsa!

Anna sits right up and fights the flush that is spreading up from her chest to her face. She is not about to tell Elsa that she was watching porn. _‘Kinda just rolling around. I miss your bed :(’_

Elsa gives her that closed eyes, thinned lips emoji, which naturally makes Anna giggle.

 _“Sooo… what do you need?’_ she types, _‘Can’t sleep and want to hear my voice?’_

A moment. And then, _“Well, I was thinking…’_

_‘Yes?’_

_‘Do you, um,’_

Anna bites at her cheek. Elsa is legitimately stuttering through text. This is adorable.

_“If it isn’t too much trouble,’_

And so formal too. God, Elsa is an anomaly. But Anna waits; she will let Elsa finish.

_‘I was wondering if you are available tomorrow?’_

She smiles. _‘New Year’s Eve? Yeah, I got no plans. What do you have in mind?’_

Instantly, the speech bubble icon shows up to indicate Elsa replying. Anna feels so giddy just thinking about how Elsa is probably lying in her bed, texting as excitedly as she herself is. They’re like children, discovering the wonders of texting for the very first time, and can’t stop doing it because it’s the most amazing thing they’ve discovered or something. It’s so silly, but Anna can’t stop grinning.

_‘May I take you somewhere?’_

Anna’s eyes light up. She blinks several times and has to reread the message several times. Her grin spreads impossibly wider and she answers, _‘Are you asking me out on a date?’_

A moment, and then, _‘Would that be okay?’_

She chuckles. Always so apprehensive. _‘Of course it’s okay, Elsa. Where will we be going?’_

_‘It’s a secret ;)’_

_‘Ooh, mysterious. Can’t wait till I end up getting chopped up into little pieces because you’re actually some black-market organ trader.’_

_‘Anna!’_ Elsa sends, _‘I wouldn’t do something like that!’_

 _‘I know, I know!’_ Anna laughs. Funny how Elsa takes her jokes so seriously. Anna always finds joy in seeing Elsa’s reactions. _‘Calm down, I was joking!’_

_‘:(‘_

_Ugh._ Again with the little sad smiley. Anna’s heart clenches each time she sees this, because it is equivalent to seeing Elsa pout. And it’s kind of frustrating that she can’t see her like that first-hand right now.

 _Man,_ Anna sighs. She misses her. Even though it’s only been, like, two days since they saw each other.

 _‘… Anna?’_ Elsa suddenly sends, grabbing the redhead’s attention once again.

_‘What is it?’_

Elsa starts typing. _‘It’s gotten really quiet without you around.’_

Her eyes go through the message, again and again and _again_. I-is this really happening right now? Elsa’s—she’s… _aww!_ Anna flops onto her stomach, supporting herself with her elbows. Her legs kick in the air and she’s trying her hardest to suppress the giggle that is bubbling in her chest. _‘Is this your way of saying that you miss me?’_

The speech bubble icon appears. Disappears. _Reappears._ Disappears again, and then, _‘I’m not being annoying, am I?’_

_‘You’re being criminally cute.’_

_‘…’_

_‘But I get what you mean. And I’ve figured out a system, Elsa. Wanna hear it? I think it’s the smartest thing in the world because it will solve this problem of yours.’_

_‘Uh oh,’_ Elsa sends with a rolling-eyes emoji. _‘What could it possibly be? Please enlighten me, Genius Anna.’_

She giggles. _‘Okay, get this. Seeing how we’re no longer tutor and student, we obviously won’t have lessons together anymore, right?’_

_‘Yes…’_

_‘SO! I was thinking,’_ she goes on, _‘Well, this is assuming that I won’t disturb you or anything, and that you won’t have other stuff to do,’_ send. _‘But like. I’m not saying you won’t have stuff to do, because I’m sure that you’re busy with stuff—I mean, you are a college student and all,’_ send. ‘ _Also, I can totally rethink another strategy until this works out so that we can get this right,’_ send. _‘And then you can tell me if it works out or not and then we can put it into motion!’_

A long pause. But eventually, Elsa responds, _‘You just… told me a whole lot of nothing.’_

Ugh. Right. The rambling, yes. That was dumb. Anna tries again, _‘So, what I’m really trying to say is…’_ she sighs. Pauses to compose herself a little. _‘Would it be okay if I come visit you once in a while even when school starts?’_

Elsa’s response doesn’t come immediately. In fact, it doesn’t come at all. And that somehow scares Anna.

 _‘I mean, um,’_ she quickly sends, _‘Only if you’re okay with it! I don’t want to force you! You can say no to me you know?’_ Ahh—she knew she shouldn’t have been so direct. This is probably asking too much from Elsa. It’s still winter and all, so who knows when another snowstorm would hit? What if upon visiting Elsa, Anna is going to be trapped up there again? She can’t be such a burden. No, no way! She’s going to have to fix this. Um, maybe—

 _‘Anna,’_ Elsa’s text breaks her train of thoughts.

 _Gulp._ Here comes the speech bubble icon again.

_‘I would love nothing more.’_

She gasps. Anna actually hears herself gasp. Her heart races. Like every single time Elsa does something—no matter how small, how insignificant—Anna loses it.

 _‘So…’_ Elsa sends, _‘I’ll come pick you up around six tomorrow?’_

Anna takes a deep breath. She’s still in the middle of processing what Elsa told her earlier, so she gives herself a second before she types in, _‘Yep.’_

 _‘Okay,’_ Elsa replies. _‘Goodnight, Anna.’_

 _‘Goodnight!’_ Anna types. She has this urge to send Elsa a _love you_ or whatever but… but she can’t bring herself to do it. It’s kind of cheesy, and, well, Elsa didn’t do it either. I-it’s too much. At least, for now. So, Anna opts to send her the kissy emoji. Y’know, the one that blows kisses and hearts and stuff?

She sends it.

And once that’s over with, Anna just stares at the screen. Will Elsa respond? With an equally silly emoji? Perhaps some hearts? M-maybe even a _love you_? Anna knows she shouldn’t be expecting a response, but she just can’t tear her eyes away.

_Oh!_

Speech bubble! The freaking speech bubble! Oh wait, it disappeared— _no,_ it’s back! Elsa’s typing and… huh. It’s gone again. Anna raises a brow. What’s Elsa doing? Did she fall asleep with her finger or something on the keyboard? Maybe she accidentally tapped the screen when she put her phone to sleep. It gets all funky when you do that.

Whatever the case, Anna will never know. She returns to her browser app and closes all the tabs. Can’t let anyone know that she’s been watching porn! Nah-uh! Even if she were incognito. Still have to destroy all evidence. She tosses her phone to the side and buries her face in her pillow. Admittedly, a part of her wants to watch a few more videos to get more… _erm,_ insight, but… a larger part of her is telling her not to. It’s so ridiculous, after all.

Because. Seriously. Sex is a distant subject for the two of them. Anna can barely tell Elsa that she loves her.

* * *

Elsa arrives precisely at six—as punctual as she is perfect. She also does this extremely chivalrous thing where she comes to the door to wait for Anna.

“Anna!” her mom calls. “Elsa’s here! You’re making her wait!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she calls as she does her final touches in front of the mirror. She’s chosen to wear her twin braids today because she has this magenta beanie she’s been dying to wear (but never got the chance), and it’ll look weird if had it on with her hair down. Elsa told her to dress warmly but be in clothes that she can move easily in, so Anna chooses those black leggings again, along with a grey hoodie and a purple bomber jacket to match. She picks out a white wooly scarf and wraps it around her neck haphazardly before bolting down the stairs, careful to not trip.

“Ah, there you are. Hurry up and put on your shoes. Elsa’s been standing here for so long.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Anna distracts herself by tying on the shoelaces of her boots. She can’t actually look at Elsa right now, because the girl is looking extra gorgeous today, dressed like legitimate royalty. Or, um, a model. Very much like the first time Anna laid eyes on her on their first lesson. Yeah, she’s reliving the feeling right now; the sheer awe of seeing that _Paris-Fashion-Week-Runway-Model_ standing in her doorway. Windswept platinum blonde hair that appears wild, unkempt, yet so tamed at the same time; the plait hanging elegantly off her shoulder; the checkered-patterned dark brown scarf that matches so beautifully with the long, beige trench coat with oversized sleeves that goes past Elsa’s knees. Elsa’s wearing pants today—not a common sight, as she tends to wear dresses more—but Anna thinks it’s probably for whatever she has planned tonight.

Point is.

Elsa is stunning. That’s—end of story. She’s exceptionally beautiful. Anna thinks to herself that if, for whatever reason, Elsa stops pursuing her goal of becoming an architect, she could always sign a contract to become a model. Agencies would _die_ to have someone like Elsa represent them.

“Anna? Honey, how long are you going to be down there for? Hurry up with it! Your father and I have somewhere to be and we want to get out of the house soon.”

“Uh huh,” Anna ascends, cleverly maneuvering herself to avoid Elsa’s gaze. “Where are you guys going?”

“The partners are hosting this gala,” her mother rolls her eyes. “It’s just an excuse for people to hobnob with important figures and get drunk at the same time.”

“Bet you’re looking forward to the latter,” Anna comments.

“Please,” she sighs, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Tell me something I don’t know,” Iduna turns to Elsa. “You two have fun tonight, okay?”

“Thank you,” Elsa says. “I’ll keep Anna safe.”

“I trust that you will,” Iduna smiles. “Anna doesn’t have a curfew if you were wondering, so don’t you worry about bringing her home before a certain time.”

Anna grins. Yep. Another perk of being a good student. Hard work really does pay off, she randomly decides.

“Okay, off you go! Don’t let me keep you.” Her mother says, shooing them out of the house.

Elsa chuckles to the woman’s enthusiasm, “Have a good evening, Iduna. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you as well, Elsa,” the woman says, and then she turns to her daughter. “Stay close to Elsa, okay? Don’t lose her in the crowd.”

Anna gives her mother this _are-you-kidding-me_ look, before stopping to realize the double meaning behind her words. Well, kind of. Her mother certainly doesn’t sound condescending, so she’s not making fun of Anna being a child; rather, it’s almost like she’s telling Anna to take care of Elsa.

Which is a no-brainer. Like, _of course_ Anna is going to take care of Elsa. Instinctively, Anna takes Elsa’s hand, the warmth of her own skin immediately spreading to Elsa’s cooler touch.

“So,” Anna grins. “Where are we going?”

Elsa smiles. She pulls the shorter girl towards her car parked in the driveway. “You’ll see.”

* * *

Anna definitely did not expect this.

“Are you ready?” Elsa asks with a grin. She’s already at the entrance, standing tall and firm with her arms spread.

“Um…”

 _No!_ No way is she ready! She doesn’t know how!

“E-Elsa, I can’t—I don’t know how to…”

“Yes, you can! Come on!” Elsa grabs her hands and drags her into the rink, skating backwards effortlessly while Anna herself can barely find balance.

“Wait, Elsa!” she yelps, unable to look up. She’s far too focused on her feet—like all of her concentration is applied to standing. God, it feels like she can fall at any second. How do people move around in these?! Anna grips onto Elsa’s hands with her dear life. Actually, she’s _leaning_ into the taller girl with her dear life. This is probably how it feels for babies when they first learn to walk. Not that Anna has any recollection of; this is just an analogy, yep.

“It’s not that hard, is it?” Elsa asks as she continues to skate backwards, gliding along the ice smoothly as she keeps Anna upright. It’s amazing, to say the least, that Elsa is able to avoid the other skaters on the rink—like she has eyes on the back of her head. “Here, look at me. Stop looking down, you’re never going to stand properly if you did that,” Elsa instructs softly.

Anna tries to do as she is told, but it’s really hard, _okay?!_ She would argue that she’s generally really good at sports, but when it comes to ones that require poise and whatnot, she immediately fails. So, like, when her parents tried to teach her how to ski when she was a kid, she would always end up going to the children’s sledding area because she cannot—for the life of her— _balance._ Of course, her parents tried every year, but they eventually gave up; they came to the conclusion that Anna simply sucks at being poised.

And that weirdly translates to other situations. Which is probably why she falls so often even in basketball.

“O-okay, I… I’m trying,” Anna grips onto Elsa’s forearms while the latter holds onto her elbows. Slowly, she raises her head. Anna catches eyes with Elsa, who is smiling widely, eyes sparkling with an innocent joy, and she is radiant. The backdrop of the three-story Christmas tree fenced in the centre of the ice rink glows warmly, its lights accentuating Elsa’s angelic features. Like she’s illuminating; like there is a halo above her head.

“Are you ready to let go?”

“W-what?” Anna gasps. “No! Elsa, I can barely stand!”

“I’ll catch you!” Elsa releases her, slowly sliding farther back.

But Anna tries to hang on. She reaches forward and knows for a fact that she probably looks stupid as hell, slouching and shaking in the middle of the rink. God, what would the other people—the _little kids—_ around think of her! “Oh, no. Nononono—”

“Look at me,” Elsa says again. Her arms are spread, just as they were when they first stepped onto the rink. “Don’t look at anything else,”

Anna obeys. It’s taking her great effort; she feels that if she so much as breathes a bit too heavily, she will fall. Like the air in her lungs will get her off-balance or something.

“That’s it,” Elsa soothes, maintaining that encouraging smile of hers. “Now come to me. Slowly.”

She swallows _hard_ as she inches forward. This can’t even be called ‘skating’, she’s just twitching, really. When she is close enough, she reaches for Elsa’s hand, and Anna couldn’t be more relieved. Elsa seems to know this, because she soon gathers her in, wrapping the redhead in her arms.

“You did it!” Elsa says, giggling adorably. 

Anna laughs—not because she’s proud of what she’s done, but because of Elsa’s enthusiasm. “I just moved a little, Elsa,” she says. “But you sound like you’re seeing your baby walk for the first time.”

“Well, you do look adorable when you wobble like that. Almost like a penguin.”

“Hey!” Anna frowns.

More giggles. Elsa creates a bit of distant between herself and Anna while keeping their hands linked. “Okay, let’s go a little faster this time. Are you ready?”

“N-not too fast, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Elsa reassures, “I got you.”

Yeah, Anna trusts that—it’s just… she doesn’t trust herself. Ugh. Should’ve brought those kneepads Elsa’s bought her for Christmas. It would probably give her a bit more confidence. But, like. Right now, she wants to do well because Elsa’s teaching her. Not just that, but Elsa looks so happy doing so. It’s completely different from their math lessons. Sure, there were jokes every now and then, but Elsa would never teach her equations with such radiance. Elsa would never initiate something unless she truly, _wholeheartedly_ wanted it. And this— _ice skating—_ is the first time Elsa’s ever initiated. So, Anna concludes that this is important to Elsa.

Important enough for the girl to lose all inhibitions and to smile like this means the world to her.

“Here, this way!” Elsa says, being a couple feet in front of her.

Anna’s really got to do more than twitching to close the distance. She bares her teeth, takes a deep breath, and tries another strategy. Perhaps pivoting like she does in basketball would be okay? She does just that, and sure enough, she’s able to move faster and even a bit more stably.

“Just a bit more, Anna! Come on, you can do it!”

Yes, she can do it. Gotta make Elsa proud! She’s halfway there, just—

“Oof!”

Something—well, _someone_ —zips by and knocks her onto the ground. A bit dazed, Anna’s vision is a bit blurred and she can’t tell which direction is up, which direction is down.

“Anna!” Elsa comes right up to her, doing this badass carving-stop thing that sends bits and pieces of ice into the air (which Anna knows that she can, in no way, do until maybe having like fifty more years of practice), and she kneels down. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? That was a hard fall. Do you want to sit down?”

She chuckles. It’s always so amusing to see Elsa worry. “Elsa, Elsa, I’m fine. I’m used to falling, remember?”

The blonde sighs in relief. And then that relief is suddenly replaced with—erm, would it be anger? Hold on, is Elsa even capable of being angry? Whatever this is, the blonde’s thin brows are furrowed, and she sure as hell looks _pissed._ Wow, is this the legendary RBF Elsa’s spoken of? Elsa helps Anna up and somehow, very slowly, they’re able to make it to the side. Anna immediately grasps onto the fence when Elsa lets go.

“Wait here, okay?” Elsa says.

Anna just nods. She reaches for her knees and rubs at it. Probably will just get a bruise. This is nothing compared to falling on the basketball court. Especially if she gets those floor burns. _Egh,_ those are the worst.

Just when Anna’s confident enough to stand a bit straighter, Elsa returns… with a little boy at the age of five? Six maybe? Anyway, Elsa has this firm look on her face, while the boy looks terrified _._

“Now, you accidentally knocked her over, right? You have to apologize even if you didn’t mean it,” Elsa says sternly, hands at her hips.

The boy gnaws at his lower lip, like he’s holding back a sob. “S-sorry…” he mutters.

“We have to look at the person we speak to, don’t we?” Elsa says, softening her tone slightly.

A squeak is heard from the poor child, and he does as instructed. He raises his head, tears obviously pooling in his round hazel eyes and he starts, “I-I’m sorry I pushed you over. I’ll w-watch where I’m going n-next time…” he hiccups.

 _Aw,_ he’s actually about to cry! And Elsa didn’t even sound all that scary! She was asking nicely and everything! But, it’s okay. Nothing Anna can’t fix. Time to put her daycare skills to the test. She bends down to be at eye-level with the boy and pats his head gently. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it! Just be more careful next time, alright?” she shows him her pinky. The kid immediately breaks into a toothy little grin and hooks their pinkies together before gliding away, disappearing into the sparse crowd of skaters.

As soon as he’s off, Anna turns to Elsa in a mock-angry expression. Not that there’s any credibility in it, but it seems to scare Elsa regardless.

Because she just pouts, falling back to her habit when she’s nervous—fiddling with her fingers and all. “I wasn’t being too mean, was I?” she asks, voice filled with uncertainty.

“Well…” Anna starts, pretending to be bothered. “You did almost make him cry.”

Elsa looks at her feet. “I-I know. I’m usually not like this,” she pauses, looking at Anna apologetically—almost like that kid just now (except Elsa is way cuter, _duh_ ) and she goes on, “I don’t know why I was—but when I saw him push you over, I just…”

A soft giggle finally breaks out. A stuttering Elsa never fails to make Anna feel things. She can’t hold back; seeing Elsa caught in such a silly conundrum is oddly entertaining, but it’s also very touching. Anna reaches for Elsa’s hands, holding them together in her own at her chest. The blonde, seemingly confused, just stares at her; thick, dark lashes flutter as she blinks.

Anna sighs contently as she searches—as she gets lost in Elsa’s pools of blue. “… You’re making it really hard for me to hold back from kissing you right now, Elsa,” she says quietly.

A predictable blush creeps up the taller girl’s neck, all the way up to her cheeks. It’s a beautiful shade of pink, and it makes that pout on Elsa stand out even more—it makes Anna want to kiss her more.

“So…” Anna leans closer, “… may I? Just a peck?”

“W-we’re in public, Anna,” she says that, but she isn’t moving away.

“Nobody’s looking.” Anna argues in a whisper, coming in even closer. It’s true—people are far too occupied with the lights, the skating, the noise. This ice rink is huge; nobody’s going to pay attention to them.

Elsa doesn’t respond. Her pink lips puff up even more, and even though Anna knows that she is just pouting harder, her mind interprets that as an _okay_ and she captures them.

It’s strange.

 _Elsa_ is the one to part her lips. _Elsa_ is the one to pull Anna in closer, to kiss deeper. And no matter how much more Anna wants to kiss this girl, she knows that there are boundaries, especially since they are in public. So it brings her much surprise when she pulls away, _Elsa_ lets out a weak gasp, like she’s pleading for more. Anna would have thought that she’s hearing things; she would have thought that her mind was playing tricks on her, giving her echoes of that porn video clip she watched the night before. But when she sees Elsa’s half-lidded eyes—when she _feels_ Elsa gripping so tightly onto her scarf, Anna knows that she’s not the only one who wants this.

So much for ‘just a peck’.

Suddenly, she’s hyperaware of how heavily she is breathing. That their chests are heaving together. That her arms around Elsa’s tiny waist are just _there,_ unmoving, locked in place.

“Well, then,” Anna says stupidly, “That was…” _different? Sexy? Hot? Arousing?_ Damn, so many choices. How about all of the above? How about— “… you’re a good kisser.”

Elsa lets out a sound that is not unlike a scared hamster. There isn’t anywhere for the girl to hide, considering how they’re literally latching onto each other, so all she can do is to duck her head.

Man, she really doesn’t do well with compliments, does she? The way she gets all shy and nervous. It certainly is cute watching her reactions, though.

Anna laughs, finally breaking out of her short reverie. As much as she wants to hold Elsa, PDA really isn’t her thing. So, with reluctance, Anna pulls away, but she keeps their hands linked. “Are we going to go on with my skating lessons, Ms. Elsa?”

The girl in question blinks several times. Coming back to her senses, she clears her throat, trying her utter best to pretend that she’s not winded. “Yes,”

Anna holds back a chuckle.

“Let’s—um, let’s go on.”

Anna follows her, now having a newfound confidence to move a bit more easily along the ice.

* * *

Thirty minutes before midnight, Anna finds herself sitting in a dessert store that looks more like an atelier than anything—point being, the place looks fancy as hell. They only really had street food for dinner—pizza, hotdogs, the usual—since everywhere else is full, but Anna isn’t particularly hungry. Technically, the optimal place to be at on a day like this would be a bar or a nightclub, but she’s not exactly an adult yet, so they’re going to have to settle for this.

Still, is it just her, or are parents less strict nowadays? How can they let their kids still be up at a time like this?! Sure, they’re in the ‘partying’ district of town, and, yeah, _sure,_ it’s New Years Eve, but they have to sleep! How are they going to grow properly?

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” Elsa asks in a hopeful voice.

“Hmm?” Anna turns to the blonde, tilting her head curiously.

“I mean,” she tugs at her bottom lip. “All that skating. Are you tired? You can tell me if it’s getting too late—”

“Oh, please, Elsa,” Anna rolls her eyes playfully. “We stayed up until four that night watching that stand-up.”

Elsa purses her lips thoughtfully. “You’re right. But… you kept falling asleep.”

“Hey, so did you! You kept nodding your head, barely keeping your eyes open. And at some point, you actually started snoring.”

“O-oh, dear. I snore?”

“No, I was kidding,” Anna says immediately. She can’t do it! She doesn’t have the heart to lie to Elsa…! “You’re, like, the prettiest sleeper in the world. There’s no way you’d snore.”

Elsa eyes her suspiciously. “You say it like you’ve watched me sleep…”

Well, she’s not wrong. Not that Anna’s going to admit it. She just thins her lips and grabs the menu, hiding behind it. “Aaaanyway. What should we get? Ooh! Everything looks so good!”

Not more than ten minutes later, their orders arrive—Anna nearly drools as the most chocolatey thing on the menu (a chocolate lasagna parfait) is placed in front of her, while Elsa simply smiles and thanks the waiter when she gets her salted chocolate tart.

“Oh my god, this looks like heaven!” Which isn’t a lie. Layers and layers of dark, milk, and white chocolate piling on top of one another. It literally is a lasagna. Anna digs her spoon into the clear glass cup and gives Elsa the first bite. “Say _ahh,_ ”

Elsa blushes prettily, but seeing how the other tables (mostly occupied by distracted parents and equally distracted kids) aren’t looking, she smiles and plays along, taking the bite.

“How is it?” Anna asks.

“Delicious,” Elsa says, covering her mouth with a dainty hand. She slices into her chocolate tart with her fork and reaches over to Anna. “How’s mine?”

She leans in and chomps onto the silverware. The saltiness hits her first, but it soon melts into a delightful, sweet, chocolatey goodness. “Mmm!” she moans. “Wow, it’s so good! Elsa, this place is so good!”

“I think as long as it’s chocolate, you’d think it’s good,” Elsa laughs.

“Well, yeah, it’s hard to mess up chocolate,” she stuffs a spoonful of parfait into her mouth and groans at the explosion of sweetness. _Ugh._ Too good. It’s… what’s the word? Orgasmic? Yes. _Orgasmic._ Not like she knows what it feels like, but yes. This is the best way to describe this taste. “So,” she digs her spoon into her cup, scooping for more, “… what gave you the idea of going ice-skating today?”

Elsa cuts delicately at her tart. “Oh, just,” she smiles, “It’s been a while since I’ve gone.”

“Really? When was the last time?” unlike the blonde, Anna is digging through her dessert eagerly, talking as she eats.

But Elsa doesn’t seem to mind. Her smile remains, but she’s weighed down by a delicate, fragile expression. “When I was eight.”

Which makes Anna stop. She looks up, fully expecting to console the girl sitting across, but she is greeted with such kind eyes. It’s an instinct. Anna feels this unprecedented need to reach for Elsa’s hand. Because she knows that as much as it will keep Elsa safe, it keeps herself grounded. It’s a two-way thing. Whatever Elsa feels, Anna wants to know. Whatever Elsa’s been through, Anna wants to listen, to tell her that _it’s okay._

Their fingers thread together. Anna holds onto her with a gentle strength.

And it’s encouraging. It makes Elsa relax, because her expression changes into one that is much softer, much more comfortable.

“They were busy people, you see. Always flying to different countries for their performances. But they would always come back during important days to spend time with me,” Elsa explains softly. “My birthday, Christmas, their birthdays. Oh, and… they would take me camping during summer. They know how much I like playing outside.”

Anna smiles fondly. Elsa looks so happy, so at ease when she’s recalling her memories. Anna’s noticed this when Elsa first spoke of her parents that night during dinner. It’s the same expression. Elsa loves her parents, that much is obvious.

“Yeah?” Anna scoops some of her own dessert up and reaches for Elsa, letting her take a bite. “Maybe we can go during the summer. My parents aren’t nearly as cool as yours, so I mostly went with my friends.”

Elsa smiles, the corners of her lips reaching her cheeks as she leans in to take the bite.

“And when we’re old enough, maybe we can go travelling as well,” Anna suggests. “Go to all the places your parents went.”

Her smile widens. “I would love that.”

It’s infectious. But that’s already known. Seeing Elsa like this, seeing her so happy, Anna is lifted, taken to another dimension. 

So even as the countdown begins, even as the clock hits midnight, even as the fireworks shoot out from some part of the city, making these distant booming noises that mix with the cheers around them, Anna doesn’t look away.

It… it’s probably way too early to say it. After all, what does Anna know about love?

So maybe even if this isn’t the right time, she can at least let her know.

Just a little.

“Elsa?” she calls, voice barely audible through all the background noises.

But Elsa answers. “Hmm?”

Anna grins. She brings Elsa’s hand to her cheek, leaning into the girl’s touch—much like that night. Much like when they first acknowledged each other’s feelings. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for, um, well. Y’know, tonight, and I guess… everything."

"I didn't do anything," Elsa giggles.

"Oh, no, you, uh. Well, I guess what I really want to say is… thank you for being my first?” she laughs nervously. “I, ah, I’m happy it’s you.”

Anna would miss it if she didn’t pay attention, but, thing is, this is Elsa. How can Anna ever _not_ pay attention to her? Which is why she catches it. That little sharp intake of breath. That tiny fraction of a second where Elsa’s breath hitches.

Then, finally, Elsa’s expression softens. The redness on the apples of her cheeks deepen, and through a beautiful smile, she responds—as soft and gentle as the snowflakes that are once again falling from the skies.

“A-and I… I’m happy it’s you as well, Anna.”

 _Oh, man._ She thought 'butterflies in your stomach' is just an expression. To actually feel it is… um. Kind of weird. Surreal, even? All she knows is that it is strange, but it's not a bad feeling. She likes to believe that Elsa's feeling the same way right now, which kind of explains why she also has this silly grin on her. 

And it’s funny. Thinking back, Anna recalls them just sitting there, staring into each other until one of the waiters awkwardly comes by to tell them that they are closing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i'm so sorry for the delay!! i got called to fly back to work earlier than expected, so half this chapter is written on a 14hr flight, and the other half is written while i am in self-isolation for 14 days because i've arrived from another country and i'm being responsible and all.
> 
> good news is, i have nothing to do for 2 weeks, sooo expect an update soon? thanks for your feedback as always!


	11. Chapter 11

“Got your calculator this time?” Rapunzel asks.

“Uh huh,” Anna digs the device out of her bag. She turns it on to check if it’s functional. “It’s new, so there are for sure batteries.”

The golden-blonde chuckles. “Who cares? You’d still get a decent mark without it, anyway.”

Anna gives her friend a playful eye-roll as she sets out the rest of her stationery. “Still, what kind of teacher schedules for a test on the first week of school after winter break?”

“Weasel Town, that’s who.” Rapunzel grumbles.

The students surrounding them break into a soft giggle. Anna laughs along but quickly reminds Rapunzel, “Careful now, don’t let him hear you say that. He might just send you to the principal’s office for _violating the law.”_

“Ooh, I’m so scared,” Rapunzel feigns a gasp. “What if he ends my academic career? Whatever will I do for insulting the high and mighty Duke of Weselton?”

“Shut up,” Anna says behind her laughter, and she would have said more, but then she feels her phone vibrating in her pocket.

“Elsa?” Rapunzel scoots over like the nosy friend that she is and tries to look at the screen.

To which Anna just shows her, because it’s not like her and Elsa’s conversations are anything cheesy or gross or whatever. “Yes, it’s Elsa.”

Rapunzel smirks. “Still can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away when you got together,” she exaggerates a sigh, “So much for ‘chicks before dicks’…!”

Anna blinks. She contemplates for a moment before eyeing Rapunzel weirdly. “… Elsa doesn’t have a dick.”

“I know,” her friend deadpans. “It’s just a saying to describe friends who—you know what? Doesn’t matter.”

 _Oh, no._ Is she angry? God, Rapunzel’s probably pissed after all; like, she would be if her friend found a boyfriend but didn’t say anything about it. Anna clears her throat, “Um… hey, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…”

It’s Rapunzel’s turn to blink.

“B-but I can, uh, make it up to you? You want to go hang out with me after school? I’m going to head downtown to grab some desserts before I head up to meet with Elsa. We can check to see if that bag you wanted got restocked. O-or, um, maybe we can grab a drink? Do you want to call Mulan out as well? I can—”

“Anna, Anna,” Rapunzel cuts her off.

She stops, thinning her lips nervously.

And that just makes Rapunzel laugh. “Do I strike you as some spiteful, petty, dumb blonde who gets angry over the smallest things?”

“No, of course not!”

“Good,” Rapunzel says. “You get nervous so easily, it gives me anxiety. Are you like that around Elsa? God, I hope her calm demeanour can influence you a little. You sure need some zen in your life.”

Anna would retort, but Rapunzel has a point. Anna definitely freaks out over the most trivial of things at times.

“Anyway, thanks for the offer,” Rapunzel continues, “But I couldn’t go today even if I wanted to. Unlike you, my talents do not encompass every single subject in the world; I have violin today. So, maybe next time?”

“Okay,” Anna says. “But, Rapunzel, I can’t play a single instrument, so my talents do not exactly ‘encompass every single subject in the world’.”

“You’re just being modest. Didn’t Mr. Matthias suggested for you to join choir back in freshman year? He wouldn’t stop saying how nice your voice was.” She shrugs. “Anyway, you should come by the music room some time. Oh, ask Elsa to come along. It’d make him so happy.”

Oh, right. Didn’t Elsa visit the music teacher last time when she came for the game? Considering how Elsa is an avid pianist, it would only make sense. Mr. Matthias probably liked her a lot.

“Mm, yeah, I can do that. When’s your next rehearsal?”

“It’s every Tuesday,” Rapunzel pauses when the weasel enters the room, going on in his squeaky voice about how important today’s test is and whatnot. She lowers her voice, “Come by when you have time.”

* * *

Anna genuinely enjoys window shopping, and so after buying two small chocolate cakes that she knows both herself and Elsa would love, she spends some time doing as such. Not that she has anything she needs to buy in particular, but, really, Anna just gets amused easily.

And that is how she ends up at the fashion district—y’know, with those luxurious brands and stuff. Anna herself isn’t really into fashion; she usually just goes with whatever looks comfortable and athletic. It’s not like she needs to look good in front of a bunch of high schoolers.

But. Perhaps it’s because of the time she’s spent with Elsa? Yeah, that’s the only explanation. The more time she spends with the blonde, the more she becomes self-conscious of what she wears. Just take that night on New Year’s Eve. Elsa was dressed like a runway model, while Anna was just… _her._ Elsa would never reprimand her, nor would she judge, but, just. Like. It wouldn’t hurt to try a bit harder for her date the next time around, right?

And so, Anna observes the mannequins on display. There is no way in hell she can afford those handbags, but maybe she can put together something in her wardrobe to look a hint more stylish? Long jackets and dresses seem to be quite the hype nowadays. Anna lowkey likes to wear dresses, so… maybe when it gets a bit warmer?

 _Hmm, yes._ This will work out.

Anna continues down the street, eyes glued studiously to each and every mannequin she passes, taking in every ounce of inspiration she can squeeze from the sight.

… that is, until she reaches a very, _very_ familiar looking mannequin.

She tenses and looks at the store sign. In the classic, black, Times New Roman font, ‘Victoria’s Secret’, plastered on a pink-white backdrop. Why, of course it is. Where else would she see this blue, see-through, lacy, garter-belt, lingerie-thing?

Anna gulps.

How creepy does she look right now, standing out in the street ogling at a mannequin?

_Pretty creepy._

How weird is for her to picture this on Elsa, her girlfriend?

 _Not weird_ , her mind tells her. Not weird in the slightest. In fact, it’s completely natural. Yes. It’s fine. No biggie. She may be acting a bit like a horny teenager, but. It’s okay. _No problem._ Anna nods to herself.

 _Sooo…_ what’s stopping her from going inside to have a look?

She does just that. Anna steps through the threshold, and the atmosphere just _shifts._ Immediately, a girl who’s not much older than herself (but looking much, much hotter) walks up to greet her. “Hello! Welcome to Victoria’s Secret! How can I help you today?”

“Um, I’m fine. I’m just… well,” Anna stutters. Wait, a second. Since help is here, why not just ask? Not like this person knows her and is going to announce to the entire world that she’s buying something so risqué. Plus, it’s unlikely Anna is ever going to see this person again. She clears her throat. “I was just wondering, how much is the, uh… lingerie on display outside?”

“Oh? Do you mean the blue one?”

“Y-yes. That would be the one.”

“Ah, you are in luck! We are doing a promotion on that right now! If you purchase the entire set, we are adding in a pair of sheer garter stockings to match for free! Seriously, the whole thing looks so sexy together. Are you planning to please someone with it? It would look adorable on you!”

… okay, honestly. Anna knows that this girl is working on commission and all, but she doesn’t have to try kissing up this hard. It’s not like she has much of a will to tell the girl the truth, either, so Anna just plays along. “Mhmm, yep. Been wanting it for a while!” she says, as happily as she can.

“Lovely! Let me just go to the backroom to get you a new one. May I just ask…” she stops to glance at Anna’s figure, “… what size would you want the bra to be?”

 _Huh._ Good question. Despite having seen (accidentally, she must keep emphasizing!) Elsa’s boobs, Anna doesn’t actually know how big they are. They are certainly bigger than her own, she can say, but if she had to guess… “Um. 34… C?”

The girl gives her this look—like she’s doubting her (which Anna understands, because she’s mainly an A, but she _could_ be a B on a nicer day)—but continues smiling, nonetheless. “No problem! Give me a sec, let me get you a new one in the backroom.”

When the girl disappears. Anna pouts. She walks up to the closest mirror and looks at herself. Her boobs aren’t _that_ small, are they? Man, she knows she’s okay when it comes to her overall body, but what if this isn’t to Elsa’s liking? She’s always scared to think that being so active in sports takes away the feminine factor in her body. But… like. If Anna were to compare herself to that woman in that, um, _video_ she saw that night… she’s not that much different. Except for the boobs. God, it’s always the boobs.

Her waist, stomach, and legs are okay. It’s really, really just the chest area.

“Here it is!” the girl returns with the item in her hands. “Would you like to try it on?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Anna tries not to sound like she’s caught in an internal conflict about her body. 

“Oh, okay. Would you like anything else? There’s a Happy New Year Sale going on right now, so if you’re interested—”

“No, it’s okay,” yeah, no. The longer she stays here, the more self-conscious she’s going to feel. Besides, it’s not like Anna has any need for new undergarments, anyway. “I’m ready to pay.” She finishes.

“Okay, great!” the girl says, followed with the same robotic smile that she greeted Anna with. “This way.”

Anna takes one more look in the mirror before following the girl wordlessly to the counter.

* * *

The bus ride up the mountain is relatively uneventful. The bus is once again filled with college students too focused on their books or tablets to look up. Anna herself isn’t lucky enough to grab a seat, but she gets a nice standing spot around the priority seats area. The important thing is to keep the desserts safe. Gotta have dessert at all costs!

At the base of the mountain, an elderly lady comes onto the bus, Anna, along with several people around the area, move over to give the woman a place to sit. The lady smiles at them sweetly as she carefully takes the seat directly in front of Anna. It’s quite obvious that the woman’s legs aren’t strong enough with her slow movements.

And Anna, in the meantime, hooks an arm around the handhold pole and pulls out her phone to pass the time.

Oh, it’s just 4:15pm. Still early. Maybe they can watch a movie together before dinner. She wonders what Elsa will be making tonight. Anna sure hopes that she won’t be cooking too much, because she really wants to have enough space to eat that chocolate cake she picked out.

_And, um. More importantly…_

She wonders how she’s going to give the _thing_ to Elsa without it being weird. Something like ‘ _oh, hey, I thought this would look sexy on you, so I bought it’?_ Or maybe even _‘I can’t stop imagining you in this’_? God, no matter how it’s put, it still sounds perverted as hell!

Moreover!

Nobody told her this stuff costs so much! She just dropped nearly two bills buying freaking lingerie! _Ugh._ Victoria’s Secret is way overpriced.

Anna frowns and looks desperately for some sort of distraction; she glances out the window and sees that the university’s buildings are finally coming in sight. Grinning, she taps into Elsa’s name and starts typing away, _‘Almost there! One more stop! :D’_

Elsa’s response comes right away. _‘Okay. I’ll come down and pick you up.’_

_‘I think I’d know where your dorm is by now, Elsa.’_

_‘Yeah, I know, just…’_

_‘You miss me that much. Yep! I know, I know. But it’s only been a week.’_ Anna sends with a smirking emoji.

_‘…’_

_‘I’m a big girl,_ ’ she sends but pauses because they’ve arrived at a stop and Anna has to move out of the way for some people. It’s incredibly crowded despite it being the late afternoon. Classes around this time must be popular or something. When the bus starts moving again, she goes on, _‘Alright, I’m almost here. I hope you have popcorn, I’m really feeling for a movie right now.’_ Send. _‘Ooh! And some hot chocolate.’_

 _‘Popcorn and hot chocolate?’_ Elsa’s message reads. _‘I’ve never seen an odder combination…’_

 _‘Tsk, tsk, tsk,’_ Anna sends, _‘Elsa, my dear, allow me to enlighten you.’_

_‘Mhmm? :)’_

She finds it amusing that Elsa would play along. But she goes on, _‘Firstly—’_ Anna is able to send the message, but her phone then slips out of her hand for a reason she is unable to comprehend until she feels it. Everyone in the bus shifts at the collision—everyone including herself. In that short span of a second, the most chaotic thing ensues. The people around her fall forwards; shrieks and yelps are heard, textbooks and all sorts of electronic devices come crashing onto the floor, and the sound of glass shattering comes from the front of the bus. Anna’s lucky she’s hooked her arm around the pole, so she doesn’t fall over like the rest of the people.

But what catches her off guard is the old lady sitting directly in front of her. Poor woman just launches forward and, honestly, what the hell can Anna do? Step aside and let the poor woman hit her head against the pole? No! Anna holds onto the pole with one hand and opens up an arm, successfully catching the lady, but the force proves to be too much and she is thrown backwards, landing not so elegantly onto her side.

And that really freaking hurt! Especially since she has another person in her arms who is helpless and all!

“Ow, ow, ow…” Anna groans on impact and thinks that she would’ve broken something if she weren’t wearing a backpack.

“Goodness, are you alright?” the old lady asks with concern.

“Yep, I’m—” Anna sits up, helping the woman up as she does, “—I’m okay. A-are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Don’t you worry about me. I am completely fine, thanks to you,” she says.

Slowly, the passengers stand back up; a series of groans and muffled cries are heard, and Anna helps the lady to her seat. “You sure everything is okay? There’s a medical centre on campus, I can take you there if you need—”

“I’m really okay, dear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You certainly softened my landing. If it weren’t for you, I might have broken a few bones!”

Anna sighs in relief. “Okay. That… that’s good.” She finishes and stands straight, stretching a little to make sure that she really didn’t break anything. And, yep. All good. Her arm’s kind of sore from the fall, but, as per usual, nothing she can’t handle. The people around her are not doing so hot, though. They all look _pissed._ Well, Anna would be if she’d dropped her stuff and—oh! _Oh shit!_ Where’s that box of dessert? Where’s her _phone_?!

She starts searching frantically around. The box is easy to spot since it’s so big, but it is no longer a box; it is merely a crushed, erm, package? That’s the only way to put it. Somebody must’ve landed on this when it was dropped. Anna doesn’t even bother hiding the pout. But, hey, what can she do? At least she saved an old woman’s life.

Her phone, on the other hand, is completely fine. No scratches, no cracks—it looks brand new. How weird.

It’s not the same for the windshield of the bus, however. Spiderweb cracks have scattered all across the glass. It appears that the driver is okay though, because Anna sees him stumbling outside to talk with someone. Perhaps the person he’s crashed into?

The passengers in the bus are getting antsy as well, as a few of them have left through the back door, but some have gone out to speak to the driver. Anna figures that the ones who left are most likely rushing to their classes, even though technically they should stay in case the cops got involved or whatever. Her parents have dealt with enough accidents for Anna to understand this much.

… then again, she doesn’t want to go through the trouble of being interrogated. She’s just on North Mountain to hang out with Elsa, really.

So she does something that would most definitely make her parents lecture her. Anna gives the old lady a wave before heading out herself, still clutching onto the bag that’s holding the ruined box of dessert in her hands.

She sees that her stop is literally a few feet away, and that—

_Wait._

Is that… that’s Elsa! _Oh,_ silly girl. Anna already told her not to come down.

“Elsa!” Anna calls to the blonde happily as she runs up to her. “Wow, you really miss me, don’t you?” she grins. “I already said…” Anna stops. Because she notices that Elsa’s—she’s barely wearing anything! Just a thin, zip-up hoodie and a pair of leggings and—what the hell, she doesn’t even have her shoes put on properly! Why does she look so disheveled? “Elsa—”

She can’t finish.

Elsa’s just… she’s looking over Anna’s shoulders, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, and her form—she’s trembling. Her entire body is _shaking._

Anna follows Elsa’s gaze and finds that she is looking at the accident. Other than the front bumper having fallen off and the windshield being shattered, the bus didn’t sustain any significant damage. The van in front is also missing a bumper and its rear glass is completely shattered. It’s not a morbid sight, per se, but the way Elsa’s looking at this is… it drills a coldness straight into Anna’s chest.

“Elsa,” she calls softly.

No response.

Anna swallows. She pulls her in for a hug. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s okay.”

The trembling doesn’t stop, but Elsa wraps her arms around Anna, her grip loose and weak.

God, she’s—it’s almost like Elsa is going to _break_. Anna’s a bit scared of being too firm with her embrace. But she carefully maneuvers both herself and Elsa so that the latter would be facing away from the accident. Anna doesn’t want her to look, not anymore.

And that seems to snap the other girl out of her senses. Elsa lets out a sharp gasp; her arms around Anna’s frame tightens and she’s breathing again.

“Anna…” Elsa calls, her voice getting muffled as she hides in the redhead’s shoulder.

“I’m right here,” Anna soothes. “It’s okay.”

“C-can we get out of here? Please…?” her voice is so soft, so delicate, Anna thinks that she may collapse.

“Yeah,” she whispers, stroking Elsa’s back gently. “Let’s head back to your room. God, you must be freezing. Come on,”

Elsa obeys without uttering another word, and they head into the building, hand in hand.

* * *

The trip to Elsa’s room is completely silent. When they reach the door, Elsa can barely insert the key into the keyhole as her hands are still trembling. Anna ends up helping her, and when they’re inside, Anna immediately drops everything—her backpack, that ruined cake—and pulls Elsa in for another hug.

Elsa reciprocates without hesitation, slouching herself into Anna’s embrace. It’s like her legs have given up; Anna feels as though she is holding up all of Elsa’s weight. She’s like a ragdoll. But Anna can support her. Like she remembers, Elsa is extremely light for someone taller than herself. So, Anna rests her back against the door, staying silent as she holds Elsa close, stroking her back softly and she simply waits.

Waits for Elsa’s shaking to stop. Waits for her breathing to become even. Anna just waits.

She doesn’t push. Doesn’t speak. Anna doesn’t know much about psychology, but that just now—it’s definitely some sort of PTSD thing, isn’t it? A panic attack? Shock? She’ll look into it later. For now, something tells her that holding Elsa like this is sufficient. It’s enough to calm her down. And it certainly is, because her patience pays off when Elsa finally reacts—when she finally moves a little to press her lips on Anna’s cheek.

She closes her eyes and rests her chin on Elsa’s shoulder. “Feeling better?” Anna whispers.

A nod.

Anna breathes out, relieved. She strokes Elsa’s back a couple more times before speaking up again, “C’mon. Let’s sit down.”

They kick off their shoes and make their way to the couch, hands still connected. Elsa’s grip on her is tight—overly so. It’s like she’s afraid that Anna would let go. Which is ridiculous, because why the hell would Anna do that? They step over a yoga mat. Light blue. Laid out between the TV and the couch. Elsa must’ve been working out, which explains her attire.

Once they sit down—the moment it happens—Elsa turns towards Anna, wrapping her arms around the latter’s waist for a sideways-hug. Anna adjusts accordingly, letting Elsa hide herself in her shoulder as she holds the blonde in return. “You’re okay,” Anna says into the crown of Elsa’s head. She inhales deeply— _lavender._ Everything about Elsa is _lavender—_ it’s so soothing.

“I-I’m sorry I’m like this…” Elsa’s voice cracks. It barely comes out as a whisper.

Anna shakes her head. “You’re always apologizing,” she says into Elsa’s white-gold hair. “You don’t need to do that. Not to me,” Anna pauses. She holds Elsa closer. “But what I need you to do is to tell me whenever something makes you feel uncomfortable. I want to know how to help you.”

Elsa’s arms wrap tighter around Anna. The trembling returns, just a bit. “Anna…”

“Only if you want to.” Anna adds. She starts rubbing at Elsa’s arm to warm her up. “Tell me, only when you’re ready, okay? I won’t ask.”

_Won’t push._

Elsa buries herself even more into Anna’s shoulder. Almost like she wants to disappear into the redhead’s clothes. Elsa nods, swallows thickly, and speaks in a quiet voice, “Can we stay like this?”

“Yeah, of course,” Anna responds. “Here, let me just…” she lets go of Elsa momentarily—which is obvious that it bothers the girl because it just makes her hug Anna even tighter—and removes her thick jacket. She drapes it over Elsa’s shoulders before encircling her arms around the blonde again. “Is this okay?”

She nods again.

Anna smiles. She rests her cheek on Elsa’s head—it’s the perfect pillow—and closes her eyes, content that the girl in her arms is no longer trembling.

* * *

The next time she opens her eyes, everything is dark.

Well, of course it is. She just took an afternoon nap. Elsa herself is still asleep, on top of her, and— _oh,_ she probably lied down at some point. It’s no big deal, though, because, obviously, Elsa barely weighs anything. Anna reaches for her phone in her pocket, making her movements as subtle as possible so as to not wake Elsa.

The bright screen coming on is blinding, making Anna squint on instinct. _6:24pm._ Okay, it’s not too late. They can still make dinner. Anna unlocks her phone to check her messages, and, _wow._ She’s missed several calls from Elsa? Since when did she— _oh_ , maybe when Anna dropped her phone. Alright, it’s best to text her parents. Anna’s probably going to stay over for the night, considering Elsa’s condition. No way in hell does she feel comfortable to leave her alone for the night.

When she’s done and gets approval (easily), she places her phone on the ground, arching her arm as far as she can reach.

“Mm…” Elsa hums in her sleep, snuggling closer in Anna’s neck. Just when the redhead thinks that she can somehow slip out to prepare dinner while Elsa sleeps a little longer, the blonde opens her eyes.

Anna smiles. “Good morning,”

Elsa gasps. “Oh, no—I’m… Anna, you should’ve woken me. I must’ve been heavy—”

“You,” Anna laughs, “Weigh absolutely _nothing._ In fact, I think you make a pretty comfy and warm blanket.”

She pouts. The darkness makes it hard to see, but it’s just. _Ugh._ So cute. Every single time she does this. Anna just _can’t._

“You feeling better?”

“Mmn…” Elsa rubs her eyes. “Yes, sorry—”

“Ah-hem.”

“I-I mean, I’m okay. Thank you.”

Anna gives her a look—all in good fun, but she quickly drops it to change the subject. “Okay, since it was totally my fault that we had a long, pig-nap,” it wasn’t—Anna’s just trying to lighten the mood, “And it is also my fault that we don’t have dessert tonight,” it is—since the box is completely mushed, “How ‘bout _I_ make dinner instead?”

Elsa blinks. “Wait, no, it doesn’t work that way. It wasn’t your fault—”

“What were you planning to make tonight?”

“… um. Well, I was going to make us steak. It’s—”

“Ooh! Perfect! I’d like to have you know, that other than omelettes, steaks are my other specialty.” Anna grins.

Elsa is left staring, at a total loss of words. Her jaw hangs loose as she tries to think of something to say, some form of excuse, but nothing is coming out.

Anna takes advantage of this and sits right up, swinging her feet back onto the ground. The suddenness almost makes Elsa lose balance, but she holds on, wrapping her arms around Anna’s neck to stable herself.

… which, as a result, makes their position, uh… rather… _promiscuous?_

Like.

Never mind the fact that Anna’s directly in front of Elsa’s boobs (how many times did she _think_ this word today?!), but, um. Elsa’s legs. They’re straddling her. As in. Anna’s thighs are between Elsa’s.

 _Oof._ Is it just her, or did it suddenly get a bit hot around here?

“A-Anna?”

 _Ohh, shit._ Why does Elsa have to do that? Why does she have to call her name in such a whispery, hushed tone? Anna feels her chest rising and falling—a bit too quickly to her liking, to her control. Actually, it’s not within her control. She is legit panting. And she should be thankful for the lack of light, because she’s quite certain that she’s as red as a tomato as well. She swallows, but it only makes her realize how dry her throat is, so chokes—but she hides it well by pretending to clear her throat.

When she is both physically and mentally ready, Anna looks up at the taller girl.

Elsa _gulps._

It is so audible.

Anna tries to distract herself. Don’t look at Elsa’s eyes. Don’t pay attention to how _pleading_ they are. Don’t pay attention to Elsa’s scent. Her softness. Her _heat._ Nope. Definitely not that.

She ends up drawing her attention to Elsa’s lips. Parted, welcoming. _God._ It’s actually making her head spin a little. With the aforementioned _elements_ about Elsa literally wrapping around Anna, there is no escape. She is enraptured, trapped in everything that is _Elsa._

And it’s so hot.

She can’t. _Shit,_ she can’t look at her anymore. Anna thinks she is going to pass out. She resorts to leaning in, hiding in Elsa’s shoulder. “Elsa,” she calls lightly.

“Yes?”

Again with that whispery voice. Her ears are burning, and so is her, _uh,_ centre. The feeling she got when she was watching porn the other night is _nothing_ compared to this. This is—it… it’s freaking dangerous; merely having Elsa this close is reverting her into that gross, horny teenaged-boy mode. So embarrassing. So not refined and mature like Elsa.

_So hot._

No.

No, _stop it._

She doesn’t want to stoop so low—she doesn’t want Elsa to be out of her league. She doesn’t want to… t-to be like _this._

“Anna, d-do you, um…”

Anna circles her arms around Elsa’s waist, careful to not let her hands slip lower. “Please don’t say anything,” she whispers, still hiding, still refusing to look up.

Elsa stiffens.

And Anna takes the prompt to push through. “… I know we’ve talked about this. I-I know we shouldn’t rush, but I—Elsa… I don’t want you to think lowly of me. I’m not like this, I just…” the tips of her fingers dig into the blonde’s soft skin. “… I really, really, _really_ like you.”

She feels Elsa moving her hands higher. Cradling her head, combing through her hair. Her touch is gentle, warm, comforting. In a way, it is reassuring; it gives Anna the courage to go on.

“I…” she sighs, “Please—I… I want to hold you like this. Just for a bit.”

“Anna,”

Anna bites her lip. She has every intention to stay still, to not move, and she prays that Elsa would let her, so when the taller girl tilts her head up, so when their eyes meet once more, she _forgets how to breathe._

Elsa greets her with kind eyes. Beautiful, gentle, understanding eyes. “I really, really, _really_ like you as well,”

Anna’s teal eyes gleam.

“And I won’t think lowly of you. I won’t do that, ever,” Elsa says, running the back of her hand against the redhead’s smooth cheek. “Your kindness, your patience. _Everything,”_

Her heart races. Elsa moves in. Even in the darkness, Anna sees the light in Elsa’s eyes. Their foreheads touch, and so do their lips. Anna actually _hears_ herself breathing at this point, but she stays still.

“Everything you do for me, everything you do _to_ me—it’s…” _kiss_ , “I know you try your best,” _kiss._ “… because you want me to be happy.”

Anna closes her eyes. She indulges in the sensations, and the sensations _only._ Every time Elsa’s lips tug at hers, Anna would try to hold on. Her mouth parts, closes, parts, _closes._ It’s a steady rhythm, and Elsa follows it, kissing her in sync.

“And I want nothing more than to make you happy.”

Something in her _fires._ It shoots out from her core, straight to every nerve-ending, and if she weren’t being held so securely in Elsa’s arms right now, Anna is certain that she would have short-circuited. She exhales, all the while keeping her eyes shut tightly. “Elsa, I’m just a kid,” she chuckles. “You can have anyone in the world. Anyone better. W-well, I mean, I’m sure you’ve had someone better before—”

Elsa kisses her once more, this time longer, _deeper._

Finally, Anna opens her eyes, and she is caught in the only pair of orbs in the world that reminds her of stars.

“Just so you know, you’re my first as well,” Elsa says.

Anna’s eyes flutter. _Wait, what?_

A smile. “On New Year’s Eve. I told you. I figured you didn’t catch on, but… I’m clarifying now,” she says. “You’re my first. First crush, first kiss… _first.”_

She just… stares. Anna’s jaw hangs loose. There are no words. H-how is that possible? Anna chuckles to herself. How can Elsa be— _no._ No, no, no. _Wow!_ This is—this is crazy! “Oh my god…” her chuckles soon become louder, until she is caught in a laughing fit.

“I hope you’re not making fun of me…” Elsa frowns. “I was trying to be sincere…”

“N-no, no!” Anna tries, “I… I’m just… I’m so happy.” She stops, unable to wipe the stupid grin off her face. She probably looks stupid as hell right now, but for the first time, Anna can’t seem to care. She rests her chin right on the blonde’s chest, looking up with the most elated way possible. “Elsa?”

“Yes?” she answers, running circles on Anna’s cheek with her thumb.

Anna’s grin spreads wider. “My parents aren’t here.”

Elsa squeaks. She blushes, madly so. “Ah, y-yes. That’s…”

“So… do you think maybe I can kiss you again?” She leans in, whispering, “… without stopping this time?”

Elsa just frowns again. “This conversation was quite romantic until you mentioned your parents, and—oh… _ahh!”_

Anna doesn’t let her finish. She latches her mouth onto Elsa’s neck, right at a tendon where she just _sucks._

“Anna! D-don’t… don’t leave a mark, I still have… _nnn…!”_

She doesn’t listen, either. Anna kisses higher, “It’s the weekend,” she reaches Elsa’s ear, “It’ll be okay in a few days.”

“Yes, but—”

“Besides, you can always wear a scarf to hide it.”

Much to Anna’s joy, that seems to have successfully convinced her. Because Elsa seems to have given in; her hands start combing through Anna’s hair frantically. A form of encouragement. Elsa tosses her head back, giving the younger girl more access, and her body, just as well, arches in the same manner.

Anna keeps a hand on her hip while her other one moves up to keep Elsa stable—don’t want to have her falling back. She kisses upwards, as far as she can reach, and given how Elsa’s head is tossed back, even though she really wants to kiss her, Anna can’t. She can’t reach. So she improvises; following the length of Elsa’s neck, this time, she moves downwards, all the way until she reaches the metal of the zipper pull. Anna sees no reason to stop; she tugs down with her teeth, letting Elsa’s hoodie fall loose over her shoulders.

And that’s when Anna sees that Elsa has nothing underneath but a sports bra. So she _was_ working out earlier. The thought of that sends sparks up her brain. Imagine, Elsa in yoga leggings and a sports bra, revealing that flat stomach, those full breasts, and the legs. God the _freaking legs._ Imagine her going through all those poses—downward dog, bridge pose, the _happy baby pose…!_ If Anna felt sinful picturing Elsa all sexy and stuff before, it’s all gone now. In fact, she has the urge to dig into her backpack to give Elsa that… _outfit_ she bought. _Oh man,_ maybe next time. Right now, she can’t move. She can’t physically be apart from Elsa. She needs to be close. She needs to… _needs_ to dive in, to bury her face in Elsa’s chest.

“A-Anna…”

With her nose, she nudges a strap off Elsa’s shoulder, leaving it bare. The blonde’s zip-up is hanging loosely off her arms; at this point, Anna may as well take the whole thing off for her, but she likes to think that it makes Elsa sexy, with her clothes all haphazard like that.

The smooth, immaculate skin begs for attention; Anna trails her kisses up, from that bare shoulder, all the way up to Elsa’s ear once more, where she pauses to suck on the earlobe—just the way Elsa likes it, judging by her reaction from that day. “So soft…” Anna tells her in a whisper.

Elsa moans to that. A-and then she… _god,_ is it just Anna, or is Elsa moving? Like. Her hips. Elsa’s moving her hips. Rolling her hips on Anna’s thighs. Again and again and _again._ Does she feel good? Does Anna make her feel good? She certainly hopes so. She grabs Elsa’s rear, helping her with the rocking motion, and she continues sucking at that earlobe, running her tongue over the softness, nibbling as gently as she can, despite wanting to do _much more_ than that.

“Please, Anna…” Elsa hisses, the sound making Anna’s entire body clench. Her muscles, her grip on Elsa, her eyes— _her._ It’s getting so hard to concentrate. I-it’s getting so hot. She herself needs some sort of relief.

And Elsa seems to know this. In the most abrupt fashion, the blonde does something that catches her off guard; she _yanks_ Anna’s head close and crushes their lips together, teeth clashing and all that.

Anna’s eyes widen for a split second, but her vision becomes hazy when she sees Elsa kissing her so eagerly—eyes closed, brows arched in earnest, and she’s working so hard, _so hard._ It makes her mewl. It makes her feel so, _so_ weird. Weird like… like Anna, too, wants to move into Elsa. Wants their motions to be in sync.

So she does.

As Elsa moves faster, her motions become less rhythmic, less controlled. Elsa’s centre rubs at the denim material of Anna’s skinny jeans and she is doing her best to accommodate. She guides Elsa, grabbing the blonde’s rear to help with the rocking movements in the same, frantic speed. Her other hand reaches behind Elsa, sliding up between her shoulder blades like a snake to pull that other bra strap down so that finally— _finally._

Elsa yelps. But she’s much too occupied to cover herself. That frightened, wide-eyed look that Anna doesn’t know she had a thing for comes along. It creates this carnal, almost dangerous thought at the back of her mind—she wants to protect Elsa. She wants to kiss Elsa. She wants to hurt Elsa. She wants to _fuck_ Elsa.

Everything.

So paradoxical. How can she want all of these things at once? How can the immense love and respect she has for this girl morph into such untamed and borderline dangerous desires?

Is this her being a horny teenager, or is this just how humans in general behave?

God, humans are so messed up.

Anna drives her tongue into Elsa’s mouth, rolling their tongues together. She doesn’t have much experience in this, but she knows Elsa likes it. The tiny mewls, gasps, and her eagerness to return the kiss in equal fervour—it pleases Anna so much to know that her feelings are reciprocated. If smiling and laughing were possible during a kiss, she would do it. She would do everything possible to express how happy she is.

On one particular thrust, Anna shifts, and Elsa must’ve moved at an odd angle or something, because it makes her break away from the kiss—

 _“_ I-I… _Anna…!”_

Holy shit. _Fuck._

Elsa throws her head back, arching herself like she did earlier and all Anna knows is that Elsa’s boobs are right _here_ and she’d be an idiot if she didn’t—

_“God!”_

— _bite._ Anna actually bites this time. Wraps her lips around a perky nipple, swirls her tongue over it between each bite. Repeat, repeat, _repeat._

Elsa’s moans grow into sharp cries. Her hips rock wildly, Anna is starting to feel a wet spot on her thigh—through her jeans—at the area where Elsa is moving, and her hair— _ugh, shit—_ Elsa’s tugging at her, pulling her close; it’s an endless, frenzied cycle. Anna pulls Elsa closer and closer to the edge for escape, and she’s close. _So close._

She releases Elsa’s nipple, dragging her lips back up to her lips, gives her a full but brief kiss, before coming back to the blonde’s ear. “Elsa…” she murmurs.

Elsa’s cries soften. It’s like she wants to listen. She wants to hear Anna. She also wants to be _even_ closer, but that’s not physically possible. Elsa doesn’t stop rocking her hips; she wraps her trembling arms around Anna’s head, locking her in place.

She’s there. Elsa is quite literally _there._ Anna can feel the burn. The utter heat that _pools_ at their centre.

“I got you,” Anna says right into Elsa’s ear, kissing the skin there, “ _So don’t hold back_.”

Elsa _tenses._ Her rocking motions come to an abrupt halt as her body shudders. Her toes curl, her arms wrapping around Anna tighten and she actually has to kneel up so that her centre wouldn’t be making contact with anything more.

“A-Anna… stop—stop. _Please._ I can’t, I’m…” Elsa begs, her voice drilling into Anna’s consciousness as the girl speaks directly next to her ear. God, if this is how she’s been making Elsa feel all this time by just whispering in her ear, then… _shit._ She can understand why the blonde is so overwhelmed.

“Yeah, um…” Anna nods, trying her best to be as comforting as possible. She can’t fathom what Elsa is going through, but she can tell that it’s probably painful? Elsa certainly sounds as such. She turns to give Elsa a brief kiss on her cheek. It’s beautiful. Elsa’s smell, the scent of her arousal and the signature lavender, permeating the space between them. “Can I… can you let me hug you?”

Elsa hiccups. It kind of sounded like a giggle, though. A sound of approval. She tries to sit, back on the same thigh she was rolling against, but it proves to be too much. The moment their skins touch, Elsa gasps sharply, twitching away as if she were burned.

“I-I can’t… it’s too much…” she breathes, kneeling unstably as her thighs trembled.

“O-okay, uh,” Anna thinks hard. She looks around the dark room. Oh! The bed! Technically, she can—well, not just _technically._ Anna totally can _._ “Elsa?”

Elsa hums.

“Hold on to me, okay?”

“W-wha—oh! A-Anna?”

She’s lifted the blonde up at the back of her knees, making quick work to the bed. Anna places Elsa down gently, and it is only when they let go of each other does she see that Elsa’s chest is still exposed, that same zip-up hoodie and sports bra messy. Anna blushes at the sight, quickly turning away. Elsa’s probably still caught in her high—too dazed to know how (incredibly seductive) she looks.

“I, um, I’ll make dinner, after all,” Anna mumbles, too embarrassed to face the blonde. “You just rest, okay?” She peaks down, screaming at herself to focus solely on just Elsa’s face. Nothing lower.

Which proves to be pointless, because Elsa’s just. _Wow_. She’s asleep. Passed out.

“… Elsa?”

_Nothing._

Wow.

Is this what usually happens after sex? After an orgasm?

_Holy—_

Anna clasps a hand on her mouth.

Hold up. Did she— _they_ really just…!

Oh god.

They did. They _really_ did.

Well, Anna _did,_ and Elsa is the one to, um. _Yeah._

But it’s all the same! It happened! It actually happened! The grin spreads wide as she lets this surge of happiness course through her veins. Anna slides down onto the floor, leaning over the bed on her elbows so that she can look at Elsa. She’s sleeping so soundly. So peacefully.

She pulls the covers over Elsa’s frame and brushes a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes.

_“Ah… na…”_

Anna giggles. She leans in, planting a small kiss on Elsa’s forehead.

Elsa smiles in her sleep, and if Anna didn’t know any better, this is a look that represents unadulterated happiness.

But.

Anna _does_ know better.

And behind that blissful façade—both herself and Elsa alike—she will wait for Elsa to tell her.

_Until then._

She cups Elsa’s face, caressing the soft skin there tenderly.

_She’ll wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "bUt WhAt AbOuT aNnA's TuRn?!?"
> 
> RELAX. this chapter is part 1. did you really think i'd leave her hanging??  
> also, just so you know, third base doesn't count as "first time" :wink:


	12. Chapter 12

Elsa finally wakes when Anna is about done with the mashed potatoes. Most likely to the smell, Anna figures. If there’s one thing she’s proud of despite her modesty, it’s the potatoes. She’s always able to make them super creamy and soft and _yum._ Which explains why her mother always forces her to make them for parties. Anyway—

“… Anna?” Elsa calls to her with a yawn.

Anna leans over the counter on her elbows and looks lovingly at the girl. _Yep._ Perfect as usual. She smiles. “Had a good sleep?”

“Mm…” Elsa rubs her eyes, and Anna can see that the girl is smiling.

 _Okay,_ that’s good.

But then. Then Elsa sits up. The blanket covering her _very exposed_ upper body falls, and. And, um.

On instinct, Anna looks away. Elsa, seemingly still half-asleep, just sits there—until she sees Anna’s reaction and… well, _yeah._ She shrieks, crosses her arms to cover herself, and then proceeds to wrap herself in that same blanket.

“I-I saw nothing…!” Anna cries, her voice for some reason squeakier than ever.

“What… what do you mean, _you saw nothing_!” Elsa curls herself up tighter, pouting at Anna as she stammers through her words, “W-we just…! You did—you… I—you…!”

“I’m sorry!” Anna yelps. _God,_ how she wishes she can hide in one of those cupboards above the stove! “I’m sorry, just, um…!” she slaps her palms against her eyes a bit too hard and covers them tightly. “Just put something on!”

A bit of stirring in the bed, some ruffling of clothes, and some more freaking out later, Anna hears a door being slammed shut. She finally opens her eyes and sees that Elsa’s run into the washroom.

_Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no._

She did something wrong.

She totally did.

She fucked up.

Anna feels her heart pounding, and it’s contrary to that sensational, unparalleled excitement just a few hours earlier, because this one is heavy—it’s straight up uncomfortable. It’s akin to how one may feel prior to an exam. Not the best example, yeah, but based on Anna’s life experiences (or lack thereof), this is the best analogy she can come up with. But that’s not even the important thing! What’s important is that she—she’s made such a mess. It hurt after all, didn’t it? What she’s done to Elsa—her cries, her trembling—they were exactly like that video she watched! The woman enjoyed it, right? So, like, Elsa probably did as well, right?

 _No,_ of course not!

Why else would she have run away like that?!

She’s so stupid. How could she have believed a _porno_ of all things?!

Anna, _you immature, dumb, little—_

Her thoughts are interrupted by a shriek coming from the washroom. Anna drops everything she’s doing and nearly leaps across the counter, (but then she remembers this isn’t her house and she should seriously stop behaving so recklessly and so she just ends up running around it), runs across the room to reach to grab the handle of the door without a second thought and bursts into the washroom—

“Elsa!”

Another shriek—this time more like a gasp.

“What happened!” Anna runs up to her, “Did you fall? Is there something…” She stops.

It’s almost comedic; her eyes widen and her jaws drop.

Elsa is… she’s _topless_ and has nothing on but those tiny panties and… _whoa,_ are they laced?!

Anna can’t help it. Her eyes just move on autopilot. They continue to look, to observe at Elsa’s neck. Chest. _Boobs._

Holy shit.

So many freaking bitemarks. So many hickeys. _So freaking hot._

The flush on Elsa’s cheeks deepen as she tries to cover her body with that t-shirt she’s holding onto. “ _Anna!”_ she cries.

Anna blinks. Oh dear, did she just say that out loud? She totally said that out loud, didn’t she? “I-I’m sorry!” She isn’t actually counting, but if she had to guess, this is probably her fifth apology today. “I didn’t mean to barge in like this, I just heard you kind of screaming or something and I thought you tripped or saw a bug and I thought I could come in and help but like—”

“I-it’s fine, just… _please!”_ Elsa cries. She looks like she’s about to burst into tears with all that embarrassment overwhelming her, “Please wait outside!”

“Right—yes, I-I’ll, uh, yeah! I’ll be right out there!”

Yes. That’s her intention. To wait outside and then apologize for all that she’s done, and maybe expect Elsa to break up with her because she’s messed up _big time._ She will take it like a grown up and explain herself because this is far too important to her. Yes—she’ll do that. For Elsa, she’ll try as hard as she possibly can!

But. This is real life. In real life, Anna isn’t all that smooth. She’s more so clumsy than anything.

Which is why when she spins around, she hits the edge of the door right on her forehead—“Ow!”— _really_ freaking hard and _god!_ Her head spins; she loses balance, rolling on her ankle and just falls onto her bum whilst covering her head. _Jeez,_ that hurt. Like, really, really badly.

And it’s not just the pain. It’s like the impact has opened the floodgate, unleashing the emotions she’s been holding back; suddenly, she feels guilty for being in this washroom with an almost-naked Elsa, for bringing Elsa pain, for being such a klutz, and for screwing _everything_ up.

 _Oh, man,_ it’s coming. She can’t fight it. Actually. _Tears._ She’s already sniffling _._ Her eyes are getting hot and her nose is turning sour. _Ahh—here it comes…!_

“Anna!”

 _Please,_ not now. Anna hides in her arms as she hugs her knees.

“Oh, no, Anna…” Elsa says softly, “Are you okay? Here, let me see…”

She shakes her head, refusing to look up.

The frantic movement makes Elsa shirk.

But Anna doesn’t want to make Elsa think that she doesn’t like her; in fact, she wants Elsa to know that she adores her—maybe more than that, but what does she know? She’s just a stupid kid who can’t even control her hormones, leading to the mess they’re currently in. Still, Anna’s got to explain. More so the reason she needs to explain!

“I’m so sorry…” she sobs, still hiding. “I knew I shouldn’t have… t-touched you like that. I should’ve controlled myself better. You probably told me it’s okay because you’re always looking out for me. But I’m always so childish—I should’ve considered your feelings more. I… Elsa, I’m sorry I hurt you. If you want to—to break up with me, I… I get it.”

There is a long moment of silence.

Well, save for Anna’s tiny gasps that won’t seem to stop. Which only serves to remind her of how immature she is. Look at her—crying and helpless. Such a kid. _Just_ a kid.

“Anna,”

 _Okay,_ here it comes. Anna braces herself. She’s ready—she’ll take it. _Anything._

Finally, she looks up.

And she is instantly lost in Elsa’s beautiful, bright, blue eyes, gazing at her lovingly with so much care, so much warmth. Anna thinks that she will melt—if she were chocolate, that is. Because this is what it is: whenever Elsa looks at her, it’s _sweet._

As are Elsa’s lips.

When she moves in to kiss her, Elsa’s lips are sweet.

But Anna protests— _no,_ “No, Elsa,” she turns away, “… you don’t have to do this just to—”

“You’re so silly,” Elsa says into the kiss.

Anna breathes in. She can feel more so than see Elsa smiling.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she drags her lips up—kisses away the tears, pecks an eyelid, and then she lingers on the reddened spot where Anna’s hit herself. “But I… this is all very new to me as well,”

Elsa comes back down so that they are at eye-level. Anna is completely captivated; Elsa’s pink cheeks, her wide smile—everything. She looks so comfortable, soft, and confident.

“And I want you to know,” Elsa cups Anna’s cheeks, running circles on them with her thumbs as she wipes away the rest of her tears. “You didn’t hurt me. You, um. Y-you made me feel really… good.”

Her breath hitches. Anna is suddenly aware of the fact that Elsa’s topless. But somehow, that’s the least of her concerns. Because Elsa… she’s—what is this? She looks so shy and nervous but at the same time, so determined. She looks like she’s ready to go out to war, to go do battle with some legendary monster—slay some beasts and all. She’s just… she looks so _ready._

And it’s scaring Anna.

“Elsa…?”

The girl in question’s throat bobs. Anna can actually hear her gulp.

Oh, jeez. Or is that herself?

“Anna,” Elsa says— _pleads,_ “Will you let me show you?” she moves closer, _closer._ Their lips brush.

She’s panting. Anna’s chest rises and drops, rises and drops. She knows this not because she feels it, nor because she can hear herself. But it’s because their chests are pressed together. Elsa is breathing just as hard. It’s all that Anna knows—all that she can comprehend.

“I—” Elsa wets her lips, “—I-I want you to know,” she says on a shallow exhale, “How you made me feel.”

Anna swallows one last time. “Yes,” she tilts her head—just a little, and then she finishes, “ _God,_ yes.”

It’s instant. Elsa crushes her lips against Anna’s, and the latter parts her mouth; Elsa responds in earnest, thrusting her tongue in, and Anna can’t fight the moan. It comes out by surprise, out of her control—just as how her eyes seem to naturally fall shut. Needing some form of leverage, her hands reach for Elsa’s head, digging her fingers into locks of platinum blonde that are already disheveled. But Anna doesn’t care; she brushes her fingers through those soft, luscious tresses—undoing Elsa’s signature plait. The elastic tie falls onto the marble floor and Elsa’s wild, untamed hair is released.

Anna has to pull away for a moment to look. And she is so, _so_ glad that she did.

Because Elsa without her braid is just—she’s a whole new person.

Free, unguarded, _fierce._

The one time Anna got to see her like this was when they acknowledged each other’s feelings. It was the first time she got to see Elsa so happy, so relaxed.

What she wouldn’t give to see her like that again.

“Up.” Elsa’s voice is soft, but is somehow so commanding.

Anna feels her knees buckle. Her forehead still kind of throbs, but she listens. _God,_ she’ll do anything Elsa asks so as long as she asks like that. She stands, her legs wobbling and she is pushed out of the washroom—a very topless Elsa coming after her.

“Bed.”

Another command. Anna’s starting to feel that throbbing someplace else. The back of her knees eventually hit the bed and she falls back into it, bouncing on her back as she keeps her eyes glued on Elsa. She’s not looking away— _no way in hell._ How often can she see an unreserved Elsa?!

The blonde lies on top of her, hands on either side of her face, platinum blonde hair cascading down like rivers of white gold. The only source of light coming from the kitchen isn’t enough to illuminate all of Elsa’s body, yet the blonde’s cerulean eyes glow—like a wolf out for a night hunt.

 _God._ She feels like a prey, and Elsa’s the predator.

But her predator is gentle; she doesn’t bite, doesn’t hurt. She just leans in, planting small, brief kisses all around Anna’s neck.

It’s all so natural. Anna stretches, as far as she can go, giving Elsa access, encouraging her all the same to go on, to _please, don’t stop._

“Elsa…” she sighs.

The hands at the sides of her face have moved down to the hem of her shirt. Elsa’s tugging, pulling, as if asking for permission. But it’s not like she needs it. Knowing Elsa though, being so gentle and careful with everything that she does, it isn’t surprising. Anna smiles to the thought and throws her arms over her head. Her shirt comes off and before she knows it, she’s left in her bra.

_Oh, shit._

Kneeling between her thighs, Elsa pulls away to glance down, to take in the sight. The pinkish hue spread across her cheeks has never left, so when she sees that black bra, it is only natural that pink darkens to red. In an extremely Elsa-like-fashion, she averts her gaze—as if looking too long would offend Anna, as if she is committing a crime. But between every heartbeat, she would cheat; Elsa would take a glance, look away— _repeat._

It’s both adorable and ridiculous, because on the one hand, Elsa’s trying so hard to hold herself back, but on the other hand, she really doesn’t have to because, like, if Elsa wants to look, she _should_ look! It is, in Anna’s humble opinion, so freaking flattering. She likes that Elsa so clearly _likes_ what she sees. The previous, irrational fear that she held when she was at Victoria’s Secret—y’know, when she thought Elsa might not like her body because she doesn’t have enough boobs? Well, it’s all gone now. Anna reaches for Elsa’s hands, pulling them down to rest on her abdomen. The blonde’s palms are cool, but not overly so; there is a subtle warmth beneath the softness. Anna moans to the sensation but maintains her smile.

“Anna?” Elsa’s eyelids flutter, thick, dark lashes bat adorably.

“You looked distracted,” it is her turn to run circles along Elsa’s hands.

And that seems to be able to bring Elsa back. Because she starts running her fingertips along Anna’s abdomen, her touch feather-light. She applies pressure right below Anna’s breasts, down, lower, _lower,_ stopping right under her navel, and it is only then does she realize that Elsa is playing her like an instrument. Her fingers press at her again and again, so meticulously, with so much skill; it conjures up this weird thought in Anna’s head—she will gladly reincarnate into a piano after she dies from this and let Elsa play her for the rest of eternity.

At least as a piano, Anna is timeless.

Because right now, _if Elsa doesn’t touch her soon, she is seriously going to die._

“Are you now?” Elsa says through an uncharacteristic smirk.

Anna hisses. Did she just— _oh,_ of course she did. She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Elsa,” she breathes. “You’re killing me. I don’t remember doing this to you earlier.”

“That is because,” she moves in to press a kiss on the tip of a clothed breast, “You were rushing.”

An annoyed, guttural sound escapes Anna’s throat. She raises her hips, wanting _so much_ to find some kind of relief—

“Ah,” Elsa keeps her down, keeping her in place with her weight. “It’s my turn, remember?”

Anna groans. She’s not really sure she likes this Elsa anymore (although, who is she kidding? She loves every facet of the blonde). “You told me it didn’t hurt,” she mumbles, “So far, it’s hurting a lot. You and your teasing.”

A playful chuckle bubbles in Elsa’s chest. She pushes her long, blonde hair to one side, over her neck before coming back down to kiss Anna’s cheek, moving along the redhead’s cheekbone and she stops at her ear. “So impatient,” she whispers, flicking her hot tongue over Anna’s earlobe. “Now I see why music lessons never worked for you.”

Funny she mentions that, Anna thinks. She had that great instrument-analogy-thing earlier, and now Elsa’s talking about music. Huh. It’s like telepathy or something. What a weird thing to think of at a time like this. What a weird thing to think of as heat pools at her centre and as she moans Elsa’s name.

 _“God,_ Elsa…”

“Mm,” she hums, dragging her lips lower again. Anna notes that Elsa doesn’t actually kiss too hard, unlike herself. Well, earlier, Anna’s mentality is that she wants to taste Elsa, that she wants to _claim_ her, quickly let the world know that Elsa—this goddess—is taken. If anybody, if any _asshole_ like that Gaston-piece-of-shit dares to touch Elsa, Anna will wreak havoc upon their lives.

… see? It’s so irrational. So immature.

And this brings her to here, right now. Elsa, unlike herself, is taking her time, being so gentle and careful with her touches, making sure that every inch of Anna gets sufficient attention. As her lips drag across her chest, Elsa’s hands fumble with the little button of her skinny jeans, as if requesting for permission—once again—to touch Anna.

Seriously, she doesn’t need to ask. Anna trusts this girl with her life. But Elsa being Elsa, of course she would.

“Anna…” Elsa moans.

It’s getting so hard to breathe, let alone concentrate. But Anna forces herself to focus. To look at the girl above her. “H-huh? What… what is it?” She gasps.

Elsa’s slender fingers toy at the elastic of Anna’s cotton panties (thank god she’s not wearing her stupid, teddy bear-patterned pair. Or the polka dots. Or the sunflower patterned. Thank god she’s actually in a matching pair of undergarments), tugging at it, again and again. Until she continues, “… you’re so beautiful.”

Heat bursts up to her cheeks. “M-me? Beautiful? Well—I… thank you, but, I mean. Have you seen yourself?”

The sound of Elsa’s chuckle rings beautifully in Anna’s ears, and as she moves lower, breathing against the thin fabric of those panties, Anna’s vision becomes hazy. _Yep,_ just a blonde head between her thighs, burning her alive, _no big deal._

No big deal at all. Anna throws an arm over her eyes and clenches her teeth, _hard._ Blocking out her vision seems to have amplified every other sense in her body, however. She can practically smell herself from up here, and she can most definitely hear herself gasping for air, moaning Elsa’s name all the while. And above all else, Anna can feel Elsa’s dainty hands, gently pushing her thighs apart; Anna can feel Elsa’s heated breath, brushing against the thin material of her panties—Anna can feel Elsa’s lips, _kissing_ that wet spot and her body just _arches—_

_“Elsa!”_

The blonde’s nose nudges against _something_ at the apex of her centre and Anna yelps. She raises her hips to meet Elsa—she needs to feel that again. A desperate hand snakes down to Elsa’s head, shaky fingers combing through the silky softness once more before pulling her in. _More,_ Anna mouths, as her voice seems to have shut down to compensate for her brain to focus on breathing.

“Anna…” Elsa murmurs with an uneven exhale.

For just a moment, Anna peeks from behind her arm, meeting Elsa’s apprehensive gaze.

There is an unspoken silence—one that permeates the air, one that strangely speaks volumes, because all Anna can hear, all she can understand is the fact that Elsa wants her to respond.

“W-what is it?” Anna manages in a voice that is way too high of a pitch.

Elsa’s fingers tug at her panties again, toying at the bands gently, hesitant.

To which Anna understands almost immediately, because _come on._ There is no need to ponder; Anna just raises her hips and Elsa pulls the tiny piece of fabric down her legs. But then she doesn’t move. Elsa just stays there, kneeling between Anna’s thighs and _stares._

All the blood in her body has rushed up to her head. Feeling lightheaded isn’t anything new to Anna, but to bring it to this level, to combine it with that rapid beating of her heart, plus the unbearable heat that is just undulating at her centre is… _it’s…_

“No…” Elsa suddenly says, her voice pleading.

It is then Anna realizes that she’s trying to clamp her thighs shut. It’s too much—too embarrassing. She’s never felt so vulnerable and so exposed. Even if this is Elsa. It—it’s scary, okay? To have yourself in complete submission, giving another person full control—Anna’s is a bit scared. More than a bit, actually. But if Elsa wants this, if it means that it would make Elsa happy, then. _Well._

“Elsa?” she calls in a whisper.

“What is it?” comes the immediate response. Elsa moves in, lying on top of her once more so that they’re face to face. Very gently, she pulls away Anna’s arms. “Is everything okay? D-do you not want this?”

 _Aw._ Anna bites at her lip and shakes her head.

“Oh, no—” Elsa sounds so guilty, so _broken,_ but before she can go on, Anna cuts her off, pulling her in for a kiss by wrapping her arms around Elsa’s neck.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Anna says quickly.

Elsa stiffens, listening intently.

She breathes out. Gonna have to explain herself properly, otherwise Elsa will misunderstand, and that’s the last thing she wants. Anna takes a deep breath. “I want this. I want _you,_ ” she pauses to wait for Elsa’s reaction.

Who just creases her thin brows a little.

Anna’s not quite sure what that means, so she goes on, “… but I’m kinda scared. I don’t… I don’t know what to expect.”

“Do you want to slow down?” is the answer that comes right away.

She shakes her head. “No, don’t slow down. Just…” her hand comes to cup Elsa’s face, “… just stay like this when I—when it happens. Is that okay?”

Is she asking too much? Is her childish side showing? Would Elsa find her annoying? God, she sure hopes not.

But all her concerns are brushed aside when Elsa smiles so, _so_ tenderly. She presses kisses on Anna’s forehead, tip of her nose, lips, cheeks, eyelids, back to the lips. And then, finally, “Okay.” She comes in for a hug, to which Anna gladly returns.

And then it’s all bliss from there.

Caught in the tight embrace, Elsa keeps their foreheads connected. She moves a hand downwards, being sure to keep her touch gentle, slow— _patient—_ and when she reaches that thin patch of auburn hair at Anna’s centre, _Elsa_ is the one to hold back a moan. _Elsa_ is the one to close her eyes, chew at her lip, and tremble.

Anna sees all of this—why, of course she does; she’s watching everything. Doesn’t want to miss a single thing. “Elsa, _Elsa,_ ” her quiet voice makes even herself tingle. Anna moves both her hands to Elsa’s face, holding her still so that they’d continue to look each other in the eye. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t.”

A tiny smile breaks. Elsa nods, just once, and moves her hand lower. She reaches that particular spot where Anna feels the most sensitive and runs a finger over it.

A bright, powerful, surging white light comes out of nowhere from behind her eyes. It sends her momentarily above the clouds, blinds her and sends her through a tunnel-vision where she sees nothing but the bright crystal blues of Elsa. It makes her jaw hang loose—nothing comes out but a, “ _Don’t stop,”_ she says once more in a sharp gasp. Anna arches to the other girl’s touch. Her legs spread wider, hoping that this is enough of an encouragement for Elsa to continue.

“ _Yes,_ ” Elsa answers with a heated moan. She runs the pad of her finger over that same spot, this time lingering a little. Very softly, she runs small, controlled circles over the area, spreading it wider—more pressure—then coming back in, concentrating on the tip. She does this, again and again, and Anna feels herself rolling her hips, responding rhythmically to Elsa’s touch. They’re in sync—like music, like the metronome that ticks slowly at first, but as one gains more experience, it’s dialed up. Its speed increases. Faster, _faster—_

“Harder,” Anna croaks, pulling Elsa face in so that their lips would touch once more, “Elsa, please, _harder._ ”

The circles become larger, everything is so _hot._ Her limbs, the ears, her _fucking core._

That light she saw earlier—it comes back. Brighter and more powerful than ever. While before, she could at least see the clouds—some greys, some shadows—this time, all she sees is white. A blinding, white, supernova that doesn’t just takes away her vision, it singes her entire body—from her centre, outwards. It is an explosion, a firestorm, and Anna _keens._

“ _Elsa!”_ she vaguely hears herself cry just as she falls from the skies, plummeting downwards, but is kept aloft somehow—and that’s when she realizes that Elsa’s still running circles along her centre. Slow, gentle, _careful_ circles. Anna realizes that Elsa’s watching her every reaction, every expression—reading into everything that Anna does because this is important to her. It’s important to both of them.

So patient, so loving. And it is this fastidiousness that comes only from Elsa and Elsa _alone_ that brings tears to Anna’s eyes. The amount of care and concern that just pours from her very soul. Elsa is… _she’s—_

“Shh, shh…” Elsa kisses those tears away. She slows down with her touch, significantly so, but keeps her finger there. She just stays there, because she knows how important it is for Anna to simply _feel_ at the moment. The kisses mirror the softness of her touches from below; they’re practiced and precise, they’re warm and comforting—everything that Elsa is.

“Elsa…” Anna hears herself calling for her. Except she doesn’t really know why she does it. It just comes out involuntarily.

“I’m here, Anna. I’m right here,” is the affectionate reply. Elsa never stops kissing her. Again and again, those lips are planted somewhere. Mostly on Anna’s own, but at times, through her blurred vision and mind alike, Elsa kisses her cheek. She’s noticed that Elsa really likes kissing her cheek.

The thought makes her giggle.

Elsa tilts her head, confused.

Anna catches on, though. She’s suddenly so awake, so full of energy, and her heart— _holy shit—_ she’s never felt her heart pound so loudly but with so much strength before. Is this what taking adrenaline feels like? Is this… oh god, is this what an orgasm feels like?

And to think that it was _painful._ Pft, _cringe._ What an idiot.

“Anna…?” Elsa calls, noting her silence.

She grins in response, widely so, pulling Elsa in the same manner as before and traps her in a tight bear hug.

“Oh!” Elsa tries to brace herself, but it’s quite futile as Anna is so evidently stronger than her. She falls right on top of the redhead and their chests press together, legs caught in a tangled mess. But while all of this may have made them blush and all uneasy and awkward just a few minutes ago, now, it makes them laugh. And, like, does anyone know? Elsa’s laugh is the most melodic, harmonious sound in the world. Call her selfish or whatever, but she is so, _so_ glad that Elsa is her girlfriend. There is just no way in hell she is sharing _any of this_ with anyone. _Nah-uh,_ never.

“You seem content,” Elsa says.

“Oh,” Anna giggles. “You have _no_ idea.” She hides her face in the crook of Elsa’s neck. “How are you so good at this?”

The question appears to have caught Elsa off guard. The blonde squirms, and Anna can tell that she’s nervous because her heartbeat has gotten louder. She can hear it. “I-I’m not…” Elsa murmurs. “Compared to you, I—”

Anna freezes.

“—I mean, Anna. I just. On your leg. Without having you to… you know?”

She blinks. _No._ No, she really doesn’t. “Hm?”

“… please don’t make me say it out loud,” she squeaks.

“But I—Elsa, I don’t actually know what you’re saying…”

Elsa lets out a long exhale. Like releasing tension. She hides her face in the crown of Anna’s head, muffling her voice as she finishes, “… you didn’t even have to touch me.”

Oh.

Wait, _what?!_

She—Anna _didn’t?_

Oh, right. She just…

_Holy crap!_

A cough. Well, more like a chortle. Anna thins her lips _hard_ to contain herself.

“I knew you were going to laugh at me,” says a very embarrassed Elsa.

“I’m not laughing!” Anna says, who is very clearly laughing.

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m not!” she laughs.

“God, I hate you!” Elsa huffs, pushing herself off the bed, but Anna stops her easily by grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her back down. With momentum, Anna is able to flip them over, with herself now being on top, and she smirks at the girl beneath.

Anna holds onto Elsa’s wrists at either side of her head, gazing down at the blonde with a predatorial look she never once used. She understands that she looks quite intimidating, because Elsa’s returning her gaze with one of fear. Like a scared little bunny caught in a trap. So, who’s the predator now? Anna gives herself the luxury to stare at the bitemarks she’s given Elsa. Scattered like stars in the night sky, they are all over Elsa’s chest. That one, particular nipple stands out to be redder than the other—probably because Anna only bit on that one. A scarlet bruise is especially prominent right on Elsa’s pulse point. It screams for attention, and quite naturally, Anna moves in to suck onto it.

“A-Anna… wait, no…”

“If I can make you _come_ —”

The word makes Elsa squeak.

“—without having to touch you,” Anna purrs, “Imagine what could happen to you if I _did._ ”

A high pitched, desperate groan comes out of Elsa. “Anna, _please…_ I-I can’t… _”_

A breath of amusement. Does she really think that she’s going to stop now? _God,_ she’s so freaking energized, so freaking _turned on._ How can—

_Grrrrr_

They freeze.

On instinct, Anna pulls back, her cheeks flushed.

It is Elsa’s turn to hold back a laugh. “Maybe… we should get dinner ready first…”

“Uh-huh. Yeah.”

Yes, _um._ Food. It’s important. Way more important. She grabs her panties, hidden underneath the covers and she slips them on. “Hey, uh, can I borrow a pair of your shorts?” she asks, “I don’t want to slip on my jeans again. So much effort.”

“Yes,” Elsa crosses her arms to cover her chest, “You know where everything is. I, um. I’m just going to put on my shirt.”

“Well, I mean. You don’t really have to,” she comments nonchalantly as she browses through Elsa’s closet. She picks up her favourite NMU hoodie. “I think you look better like this.”

It isn’t until a pillow is thrown in her head that Anna realizes how perverted she’s being.

* * *

After much debate and a few games of rock-paper-scissors, Anna prevails and ends up making the steak. Which only makes sense, considering how she already has half the meal done. She plates everything nicely; her creamy mashed potatoes on one side, and the medium-rare steak, some baby carrots, broccoli, mushroom sauce—everything is distributed evenly on two plates. Anna wouldn’t say that she’s artistic, but she does take presentations very seriously.

Which is why she’s always in charge of the PowerPoint, posters, and whatnot. Anyway, that’s not the point.

“Okay, Elsa. Dig in!” she says, bringing the plates to the table.

“Oh, wow…” Elsa’s eyes gleam with delight. She clasps her hands together as she stares hungrily at the food. “How foolish I was to have argued with you about making food. I should just let you do it from now on.”

“Please,” Anna sits across from her. “What I have is luck. What _you_ have is pure experience. I’d rather eat what you made. It’s just that… seriously, steak and omelettes are my specialty. My only specialty. I just felt like showing off today.”

“Not according to your parents,” Elsa scoops a bit of the mashed potatoes with her fork, takes a bite, and— _“Mmm…_ ”

A spark shoots down to Anna’s centre. Seriously. _God._ Elsa! She’s got to stop doing that…! Does she not realize the impact she creates on Anna just from the voice alone?! Well… probably not, but… but still!

“Oh, _Anna…”_

 _Shit…!_ She clamps her thighs together. “Y-yes?”

“Please make this for me again tomorrow. And the day after that,” she takes another scoop. “Mm… actually, please just make this for me until I die.”

“Death by mashed potatoes,” Anna laughs. “How very anticlimactic.”

Elsa laughs behind a palm as she chews. So elegant.

Anna just smiles. “I don’t actually think you can choke on something so soft. This stuff pretty much has the same texture as baby food, doesn’t it?” she slices into the steak and is thoroughly proud of the fact that she’s gotten it just right.

“Hey, Anna?”

“Hmm?” she responds with a mouthful of steak.

Elsa fidgets in her seat, looking at everything and anything but Anna. “About today… the, um, accident,” she finally starts, “the way I was behaving. I know you told me not to, but I need… I think I should apologize after all—”

“Elsa,” Anna says.

Hesitantly, the blonde looks up. She meets the clearest, happiest pools of teal and immediately softens up. Anna drops her knife and reaches over, to which Elsa reacts by taking her hand with her own.

“You can apologize by eating your food on your own,” she fakes a sternness. “If you end up needing me to feed you, I will be very mad. _Then_ you will have to apologize. Appropriately.”

Elsa obviously knows what Anna’s trying to do, but she reacts accordingly. She ends up breaking into a small smile, nodding her head in defeat. “Okay. I promise I won’t need you to feed me,” she says, taking another bite of the potatoes.

“Good.” Anna grins.

They finish their food in a comfortable warmth, talking about their day. Anna complains about Weasel Town and his test on the first week, Rapunzel telling Elsa to come visit, but makes sure to leave out the fact that she went to grab that lingerie. Mhmm. Enough perverted stuff for the night.

… _well._ Maybe a bit later.

Elsa talks about her new courses, and since she understands that Anna doesn’t have any interest in engineering, she brings up how she’s taking a business elective course—something to do with marketing? Doesn’t matter—the point is, who takes a business course as an elective?! Anyway, she’s taking it with Eugene, so Anna will probably be hearing a lot from him for the rest of the semester.

Which is kind of cool. Anna likes the guy. She actually wouldn’t mind hanging out with him.

“Here, let me wash,” Elsa says, cleaning the table, “You relax for a bit.”

“Aw, but I made the mess,” Anna protests. “Let me help, pleeeease?”

The taller girl purses her lips. She’s really bad at feigning annoyance, because she’s just half smiling at this point. “… No. Go sit down.”

“But _Elsa…_ ” she follows her to the kitchen, “Can I at least stay here and watch you?”

Elsa stares at her. “You want to watch me… wash?”

“Yep!”

“Um. Okay.”

The corners of Anna’s lips reach her eyes. She leans next to the sink, watching Elsa squirt some of that green soap onto a sponge and wipe away the grease on the plates and utensils. It’s not all that entertaining—seriously, how much excitement can there be in washing dishes?—but Anna stays there. Mostly, she alternates between looking at the running water and Elsa’s expression. How the girl sticks out her tongue in concentration when she has to put extra strength in getting rid of a particular stain won’t come off. That is entertaining to watch in its own right.

“You’re giving me anxiety,” comes a familiar comment from Elsa all of a sudden.

Anna blinks. “Whoa. Déjà vu. Rapunzel literally told me that today. She said being around you should give me some zen.”

“Zen?” Elsa giggles. “I don’t think that’s working at all, Anna. You’re getting more fidgety as we speak.”

Yep. It’s the truth—Anna can’t keep her hands to herself. She’s tugging onto the hem of Elsa’s oversized t-shirt. “Whoopsies. I guess you’re a bad influence, after all.”

Elsa sighs, but it’s so forced, so exaggerated. Faking disappointment doesn’t seem to be her forte, either. “And to think that I used to be your tutor.”

“Mmn,” Anna nods, coming in to wrap her arms around Elsa’s middle. She kisses the blonde’s shoulder before resting her chin there. “Good thing you’re already fired.”

“Technically, I fired myself,” Elsa argues.

“Aren’t you glad that you did?”

Elsa turns around, now facing the shorter girl. She plants a kiss on Anna’s forehead. “I wonder about that myself sometimes,” she says. “At least, when you were still my student, you were much cuter.”

Anna narrows her brows. “Am I not cute anymore?” she grumbles.

“Oh, you’re very cute,” slender fingers come up to pinch Anna’s puffy cheeks. Elsa kisses the tip of her nose before continuing, “But you’re also very perverted.”

 _Well._ Anna has nothing to say about that. She just purses her lips, bobbing her head from side to side in a nodding-slash-shaking kind of way to indicate both her agreement and disagreement alike. But in her defense—“Think we’ve had this conversation before, but can I help it? Have you looked at yourself?”

“I’m…” Elsa darts her eyes around, as if looking for the word, “… average.”

“ _Average?!”_ Anna exclaims.

Again with this nonsense; just like that time when Anna proclaimed her to be a Greek deity and of all the mythological beings _,_ Elsa thinks she resembles _Medusa._

No, this isn't right. Anna rolls up her sleeves. Well, _Elsa's hoodie's sleeves._ She's going to rectify this little inferiority complex of Elsa's. Make her realize how utterly _hot_ she looks. Because, by _god—_

_Knock knock knock_

She looks towards the door. “… who can it be at this time?”

“It’s probably Wasabi,” Elsa says, and when Anna gives her this questioning look, she continues, “You wanted hot chocolate and popcorn earlier, didn’t you? I have hot chocolate, but I don’t have popcorn. I asked if he had any, since he’s always hosting movie nights. He’s probably coming by to give us some.”

“Oh, that’s nice of him,” Anna takes a step back. _Hm,_ speaking of, that craving still remains. A movie doesn’t sound half-bad at the moment. “Here, I’ll go get the door,” she says that, but Elsa is following closely behind. Anna reaches for the handle and swings the door open, fully expecting the smell of popcorn, but what she sees instead is an elderly woman.

“Oh, my dear!”

Wait a second.

It’s the same woman from today! On the bus!

“You are okay!” The lady says happily. Her frail, wrinkled hands reach for Anna’s more youthful and softer ones, and then she goes on, “Goodness, what strange coincidence—my apologies for bothering you again, I was not aware that Miss Elsa has a roommate.”

_Miss Elsa?_

“Oh, no, I’m just—I…”

“… Gerda?” comes Elsa’s hushed voice from behind.

_Gerda? Who?_

Anna's head spins. She is left standing there, looking from the woman to Elsa, from Elsa to the woman, wondering what the two’s relationship is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOPE. this still doesn't count as first time!


	13. Chapter 13

“Oh, Gerda!” Elsa’s tone is elated, lightened—she sounds so happy, so much like a lost child who has found her parents again. Elsa runs up to the door, throwing her arms around the shorter woman to wrap her in a tight embrace.

“Now, now, Miss Elsa,” the woman by the name of Gerda speaks up. Her laughter is warm, maternal. “It’s only been several months,” she says into the Elsa’s shoulder as she pats her back.

“Yes, but—” Elsa starts, seemingly glancing at the woman from head to toe. “I missed you so much.”

The woman smiles, hazel eyes glistening as though she is about to shed tears herself. She reaches for Elsa’s cheek, cupping it lovingly. “And I missed you as well.”

Anna can’t help the smile that spreads across her cheeks. Because, like, Elsa looks as though she’s about to cry! What a heartfelt sight.

“Would you like to ask her to come in before you crush her, Elsa?” Anna giggles.

“Ah, I’m…” Elsa blushes, pulling back slightly but she keeps her hands on the woman’s, “I’m so sorry, Gerda. Please, come on in. Let me make you some tea.”

“Miss Elsa, I may look frail, but I still manage much of the chores and maintenance back at the estate,” Gerda chastises teasingly. As she sits down, she turns her kind eyes towards the redhead.

Anna, in return, smiles back. And although she has so many questions she wants to ask, she knows to restrain herself. Because she and this woman have met on such an unfortunate happenstance—one that may likely harm Elsa if it were to be brought up. On instinct, Anna glances at said girl, whose back is on them as she is too occupied making that tea. And then Anna sees it. She sees Elsa, caught in an episode of a panic attack just by witnessing an accident. Elsa, barely able to move or even speak afterwards. Elsa, trembling in fear in her arms.

Anna chews at her bottom lip. Just by mentioning the accident—would that be too much? And will this woman tell Elsa what happened? If she does, Elsa might _—_ it might trigger another episode. Anna doesn’t want that to happen. No way. She doesn’t know what to do. What can she do? Anna only knows to raise her head. To look pleadingly at Gerda.

_Please._

She begs silently.

_Please, don’t say anything. Please, don’t let Elsa know._

“ _Please_.” Anna mouths, shaking her head lightly.

But the elderly lady seems to understand. Because that smile she has given Elsa at the doorway is now being directed at Anna. In turn, the girl feels relieved—reassured, in a way.

“So, what brings you here, Gerda?” Elsa comes back with a cup of steaming hot tea. She places it in front of the woman. “And at such a time, too. Has something happened?”

Gerda’s smile remains. She holds the cup in her hands and takes a deep breath. “You mustn’t assume that I would visit you only if something has happened, Miss Elsa. Can’t an old caretaker visit her favourite, most well-behaved little girl?” Gerda pauses to take a sip of her drink.

“I was the only child whom you had to take care of…” The blonde sits beside her. “Though, I wish you told me you were coming, Gerda,” Elsa says, voice still bearing that excitement from earlier, “You could have joined us for dinner; Anna’s cooking was delicious.”

“Which reminds me,” Gerda places her cup down. “Where are your manners, Miss Elsa? You have to introduce this lovely young lady to me, properly! Is she your new roommate?”

Elsa blinks.

She turns to Anna, who just sits there uselessly and pretends to be all prim and proper. _Yeah, no._ She’s gotten her side of the ‘meet the parents’ stage over with; Anna’s not dealing with another one.

The blonde narrows her brows, pouting, clearly frustrated, but continues, nonetheless. “Gerda, this is Anna,” she gestures at the redhead. “She’s, um… not my roommate.”

“Oh?” Gerda tilts her head, confused. She, too, turns to Anna.

The spotlight’s on her. Uh-oh. This is nerve-wracking.

Elsa goes on, “She’s… Anna is, ah…”

_Alright. Anytime, now._

Anna swallows. She swears the entire room echoed with that _gulp._

“We… um. She’s m-my…”

_Seriously, Elsa!_

Her heart pounds. Anna clenches her fists tightly to contain herself. Is this how Elsa felt that night? When she abruptly told her parents about their relationship? _God,_ this is scary as hell. What if Gerda doesn’t like her? Oh, no. Anna’s not even dressed properly. Just the NMU hoodie and a pair of shorts. And these clothes aren’t even hers!

So, unlike Elsa, Anna’s already scoring zero points for first impressions.

“For goodness’ sake, Miss Elsa,” Gerda interrupts, grunting. “Just tell me she was the one to give you that bruise on your neck and we can carry on with the conversation.”

Blood shoots up to her face in such a rush that Anna suddenly feels lightheaded. To hide this, Anna just ducks her head, eyes gluing onto the empty table intensely. Yes. The white oakwood material is nice _._ Just keep looking at it. Mhmm. The pattern is pretty. _Yep_.

In the midst of her embarrassment and nervousness alike, she sees Elsa actually burying her face into her palms, seemingly to hide the blush of her own. And, just as well, through this madness, Anna hears Gerda laughing. If Anna had some semblance of functionality left, she would admit that the woman sounds rather cute, chuckling so warmly like that, but. The thing is. She doesn’t. Anna can barely feel her fingertips. It’s as though she’s floating in space. Well, at least, her brain is. Like, it’s all floaty. Unbound. _Dizzy._

Good news is, at least the woman can’t see the rest of the marks scattered around Elsa’s body. _Oof._ That would be pretty bad.

“My, my,” Gerda’s laughter finally dies down. She wipes the tears away from her eyes, “My apologies, I had no intention of making things so awkward, but if that was not the most comedic thing I have ever seen.”

Anna ducks her head lower. Elsa actually brings her knees up to the chair and buries her face in them.

“Come now, Miss Elsa. There is no need to be so shy about it. You two look absolutely wonderful together!”

But that just makes Anna blush harder. She is shaking at this point and is clawing into her bare thighs to channel away all this unease. Not that it’s working at all because, seriously, she is _still shaking._

“Why not tell me how you met?” The woman suddenly suggests, much to both Anna and Elsa’s chagrin.

Which, naturally, prompts a squeaky, “Gerda!” from Elsa.

“As someone who has watched you grow up, I have every right to know, Miss Elsa,” Gerda says a-matter-of-factly, with her arms crossed.

Elsa just hugs her knees tighter. Literally. She is curled up into a ball. Anna sees how hard this is for Elsa, and although she feels bad (kind of), she has to admit that it is an endearing sight.

But then, Anna being Anna, she can’t bear to see Elsa like this for too long, as cute as she is.

Alright. She’ll be the one to take the hit.

Because as she had noted way back when she first laid eyes on this girl, she would willingly jump into the street to get run over by a truck for Elsa.

So, she steels herself and clears her throat.

“Elsa is… she’s my—well, she _was_ my math tutor. But then…” _Right._ But how is she supposed to explain the next part? That they were attracted to each other from the very beginning? Wow, was that even what happened? Thinking a bit too highly of herself right now, isn’t she? For Anna, it was obviously the cliched, _love-at-first-sight_ trope. But for Elsa? She doesn’t know. Maybe it was a gradual thing? Okay, whatever. Doesn’t matter. Just roll with it, _Anna!_ “I-I guess one thing led to another and we just… realized we had feelings for each other…?”

There is a pause. The room is silent, save the faint sound of water dripping in the kitchen sink. Along with some muffled noises coming from the hallway outside. Gerda’s eyes wander from Elsa to Anna, Anna to Elsa. Back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum.

Call Anna paranoid, but Gerda’s straight face is giving her the impression that she’s not pleased with the answer. It’s because of the way Anna’s dressed after all, isn’t it? Or the way she speaks? Maybe she isn’t formal enough?

Okay. One more time. Gotta try harder!

“I—” Anna sits up straighter. “Miss Gerda? I, um. I know that I look like a bum and all right now, but I promise you I’m not a bad influence. I-I’m actually really hard working, and if what I’m saying right now can’t convince you, I can leave, and maybe I can prove to you in another way somehow? I just—”

Gerda stops her by holding up a delicate palm, the same smile as before still present on her features.

It’s all so natural. Anna lowers her head again, knowing that she’s probably messed up. All that rambling again, _ugh._ But no— _no,_ she can do better than this. She can do better for Elsa. She has to. Anna bites onto her tongue, forcing herself to go on—to _keep on trying._

“Miss Gerda, I… I can say with confidence that even though Elsa and I haven’t been together for long, I really, _really_ care about her. I know I’m just a kid, and that—well, everything I’m saying might not even be taken seriously because,” she chuckles, “I mean, look at me. I’m just… _this._ But I will always give Elsa my one hundred percent. For everything. At least, I’ll, um,” she swallows, “… I’ll try.”

When she’s done, she relaxes a little, finally coming to the realization that she’s been severely tensed this entire time. God, her palms are sweaty. Her whole body feels numb. She didn’t sound too dumb just now, did she? Does she still look presentable? Anna sure hopes so. 

A brief moment of comfortable silence later, the kindest words come out of Gerda, “You are a brilliant young woman, Miss Anna,” she says. “Please, do not ever think otherwise. I am sure Miss Elsa loves you for that reason.”

Anna’s eyelids flutter.

Wait.

_Elsa… she loves her?_

Well. Yeah. They’re dating and all, but.

But to hear it like that, to have it put in words, Anna just. It’s. _Wow._ She shoots a shy glance up at Elsa, hoping that by doing so, she can validate Gerda’s words. But that’s when she catches Gerda reaching for Elsa’s hands.

“Miss Anna,” the woman calls gently. “Would you come over here, please?”

She doesn’t hesitate. Anna stands in an instant and makes her way around the table, kneeling beside Elsa’s seat.

Gerda smiles, and then she turns to face the blonde. “Miss Elsa,” she begins gently, like she’s speaking to a child. “Listen very closely, okay?”

The seriousness prompts Elsa’s hesitance, but she responds with a slight nod.

Gerda turns to the girl completely, and Anna knows right away what is to come. Her breath hitches, she stands. She needs to intervene—

“There was an accident today,”

“Wait—I don’t think…” Anna cuts in quietly. On instinct, she reaches to hold Elsa. Wraps her arms around the girl in a protective sideways-hug. Elsa, on her part, thankfully remains calm. As in, she isn’t experiencing another episode. So far.

Gerda knows this, which is why she continues, “It involved the bus I was on. The driver couldn’t brake properly because of the black ice on the road. We ended up colliding with the vehicle in front of us. Luckily, nobody sustained significant injuries, but the impact sent everyone—myself included—out of their seats.”

Elsa isn’t reacting, but she’s trembling. Anna wants more than anything to whisper comforting words into her ear.

Tell her that everything’s okay.

Tell her that _she’s here._

But she can’t. She can’t interrupt. That’s why all she does is hold her closer. In this sense, she can pour the warmth from her own body into Elsa. Let the girl know that she is here—she always will be.

“Miss Elsa?” Gerda reaches for the blonde’s cheek with a hand, “Miss Elsa, are you still with me?”

“I… yes,” she nods again. “Yes, I am.”

“Good, good,” Gerda smiles. “Now, I’m telling you this because I trust that you can accept that these things can happen to anyone. You of all people should know.”

Elsa shuts her eyes.

“Come, my child. Listen to me,” she lifts the blonde’s head up, urging Elsa to look at her.

Takes a minute, but Elsa finally forces her eyes open. They’re fluttering rapidly, and Elsa’s chest is heaving—like she’s putting in her utmost effort just to _breathe._

“You’re okay, Miss Elsa. You’re doing fine.”

Elsa takes a shaky, deep breath. Like she’s about to cry. But she nods once more.

Anna clenches her jaw. Bites hard. She can tell that Gerda wants Elsa to take this alone. Her interference would only worsen the situation, which is why she forces herself to stay quiet, opting to only grip onto Elsa’s bony arms.

“You also must know,” Gerda pauses to turn to Anna, expression soft, “that if it weren’t for Miss Anna, I would most likely have been hurt.”

In an instant, Elsa whips her head towards Anna; her long hair flaring dramatically as her brows crease in worry. “What…”

She feels guilty. Sure, what Gerda is saying makes her appear heroic and all, but the fact that this can potentially harm Elsa—Anna would rather her not know. But who is she to interrupt? She clenches her fingers together, fiddling them as Elsa does when she is nervous. Gosh, when did she take on this habit?

“She caught me, you see, just as I was flung out of my seat,” Gerda says. “Took quite a fall as well. I would have insisted that she get checked up, had she not left so soon.”

Anna tries to appear small, as she is much too conflicted to raise her head. On the one hand, and this is established, she should have stayed if she were to follow the conduct, but on the other hand, she is glad that she left, because she cannot fathom what would happen to Elsa if she were just left there, standing in the cold, going through a panic attack.

“And so, what I truly want to say is,” Gerda fixes Elsa’s hair, pushing those luscious, platinum blonde locks behind her ears before turning to face the redhead, “… Thank you, Miss Anna. You are an amazing, lovely, brave girl.” She states, articulating each word with such a keenness that is unparalleled, not before turning back to the blonde. “I couldn’t be happier for Miss Elsa.”

Anna hears a gasp coming from Elsa and a sigh coming from herself. A short, shuddering breath of relief. The most unwavering form of warmth explodes in her chest, followed by this inexplicable, unspoken need to cover her mouth. Anna admits that she is more emotional than the average person and that her impulses tend to get the better of her, but to shed tears through sheer joy is but a fairy tale; ergo, to experience it firsthand is something wholly foreign, almost frightening.

“Anna…”

Elsa’s voice.

She snaps her eyes open, only to see tears running down Elsa’s cheeks.

Oh no, why is she crying?

Why is _she_ crying?

Anna sniffles. “Elsa,” she calls. And even with her blurred vision, she dives in head-first to hide in Elsa’s bosom, laughing joyously as tears stream down her flushed cheeks. “You’re gonna make me cry,” she whispers.

Elsa responds by holding her more tightly, kissing the crown of her head again and again. “You’re already crying,” her response is soft.

Which contrasts so strongly with the rhythmic beating of Elsa’s heart that resounds in Anna’s ear. It’s a soothing, musical sound. Anna can’t help but to close her eyes and savour the moment. Being in Elsa’s arms is so safe, so comforting. _So right._

Which is why Anna can’t stop thinking it.

She is completely, _helplessly_ in love with this girl.

How can it be possible to hold such strong emotions towards an individual? To gravitate completely towards them? To feel as though the universe would implode if she could not have this person?

Anna inhales. Fills herself with everything that is _Elsa._ And then she pulls away to give the girl a toothy grin, earning herself a sound of amusement from Elsa, some kisses to her cheeks, to her eyelids, repeat, repeat.

“S-stop, Elsa,” she giggles, and it’s not like she’s actively pushing the blonde away—it’s just a bit embarrassing to be doing this in front of someone, who happens to (evidently) be a maternal-figure to Elsa. It’s like if they were doing this in front of her mother. That’d be weird, wouldn’t it? “Come on,” she tries through her laughter, “You’re embarrassing me!”

Elsa just hums, nuzzling her face in Anna’s fiery red hair. 

“Ah, but you are in luck, Miss Anna,” Gerda says through her smile. “It is to my understanding that Miss Elsa is rarely so affectionate with her gestures.”

Anna manages to shove Elsa away playfully to stand up, only to have the blonde come back in to circle her arms around her waist. Anna’s cheeks redden a bit more than they already have, because, like, Elsa is being way too cute for her own good right now. “Elsa, at least scoot over a little so I can sit,” she says. “O-oh, and, um. Just ‘Anna’ is fine. I’m not a princess or anything.”

“Well, then,” the elderly woman’s posture becomes more relaxed, “I must insist that you, too, should simply call me ‘Gerda’.”

At that, Elsa turns her attention towards her caretaker, frowning in such a way that makes her look more like a confused primary school student stuck on a question than anything. “I tell you to drop formalities with me all the time, Gerda, but I just get ignored.”

“Now, you know I cannot do that, Miss Elsa.”

Anna, finally finding some space on the chair that Elsa is sitting on, finds the conversation rather intriguing. Gerda’s response is cryptic, unreadable, and Elsa’s frown simply becomes more prominent. From the aforementioned confused expression, it is now one of loss, or, rather, _disappointment?_ Anna thinks it is best to just stay quiet and listen on.

“What is the reason you have come, Gerda? Has… has something happened, after all?”

Odd. Elsa asked in such a weird, solemn voice.

Gerda shakes her head lightly. “Nothing has happened, my child. Please, do not worry. I simply found myself longing to see you. I figured that it must have been hard staying up on the mountain over your birthday and Christmas. As soon as the snowstorm lifted, I requested a day off to come visit.”

“And grandfather…” Elsa swallows.

Anna feels the blonde’s body tense beside her.

“… is he, um. Is he okay with you visiting? Would it not inconvenience you?”

The woman’s expression softens. Once more, she reaches over, placing her hand over Elsa’s. “He has gone abroad for a business trip.”

Elsa tenses some more. She sits up, her back becoming as straight as a board, “Gone abroad? Is everything alright? Will he be fine on his own? Maybe I should call him—where did he go?” Frantically, Elsa reaches into her pocket, likely to look for her phone, but then she realizes that she’s not even wearing pants with pockets. She ends up glancing all over the room, “I need to know the time difference—”

“Miss Elsa,” Gerda interrupts, her grip on Elsa’s hand becomes firm.

Firm enough for Anna to see the wrinkles and the green veins to become more noticeable.

“My husband has gone with him,” she continues, never dropping that smile of hers, “Your grandfather will be fine—he is in good hands; do not worry.”

At the sound of that, Elsa breathes out. It is the longest sigh that Anna has heard, but she is glad that the girl has loosened up. She takes the cue to wrap a cautious arm over Elsa’s waist, stroking her back gently. And, like clockwork, the entirety of Elsa just melts. Her posture is no longer stiff; she’s like a pile of goo, and she lets herself fall into Anna’s embrace. Elsa just leans her head into Anna’s.

“Yes, I… I trust Kai,” she says, giving her caretaker a small smile. “How is he by the way? Is he taking good care of himself?”

“Master Runeard is well, Miss Elsa. There are times when he wakes up feeling weak, but after a fine cup of coffee, he would be at full throttle as always.”

Elsa lets out yet another sigh. “He shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee,” she mumbles, more so to herself than at Gerda.

“Perhaps you should come back to visit him some time? Urge him to cut down on the caffeine yourself. He will return next week,” Gerda pauses, “You can consider introducing Anna to him. I am certain that her personality would charm him to no end.”

Anna fights a blush, lowering her head a little. Gosh, she barely knows this woman, and she is throwing all these praises at her. What has she ever done to deserve such flattery? She’s so nice—too nice. Anna wonders if Elsa’s grandfather is just as kind? Maybe. Because it would compensate for the fact that he couldn’t spend time with his granddaughter—

“No,” comes a sudden, straightforward reply from Elsa.

It’s so blunt that it makes the elderly woman jump, and it certainly comes out so uncharacteristically direct that it startles Anna.

However, Elsa, to her credit, realizes what she’s done. She stiffens, clenching her fists together before scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. God, she looks so small, so guilty. Like a little girl who knows that she’s done something wrong. “I’m sorry, Gerda” she manages. And then she turns to face Anna, “I’m sorry, Anna. It’s just… my grandfather is a busy person and he’s… he—I just. I hope you understand.”

Anna takes in her words intently, careful not to show a hint of doubt, even though she knows.

That Elsa is probably frightened by the idea of her grandfather, for reasons she wants to understand.

But for Elsa’s sake, Anna holds back. She has no right—not unless it brings Elsa comfort. So, instead, she just nods and gives the girl a smile. “Of course,” she says, squeezing Elsa’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just set up a time; I’ll always be ready to meet him! Be sure to tell me sooner, though. I have to find a better outfit to impress him. Can’t be wearing sweats, y’know?”

Her playful response is enough to make Gerda chuckle and Elsa release that strain she’s been withholding. Anna can feel it escape the blonde’s body—the rigorous tension that just disperses into thin air.

“Thank you, Anna.”

She widens that smile of hers, all the while searching deep into the blonde’s eyes for remaining uncertainty. If there exists any, Anna will wipe it away. She will do all that she can to make Elsa happy.

“So, um, Gerda,” which is the reason that she decides to change the subject so abruptly. Have to lighten up the mood and all, “I think I should apologize for being so irresponsible. I know I should’ve stayed and, well, I didn’t, but. Anyway. What happened afterwards?”

“It’s no problem at all, dear. If I were a few years younger, I would definitely have leapt off the bus the moment those doors opened,” she says. “But, to be honest with you, nothing eventful happened. The few passengers who chose to stay were brought to the campus hospital by the ambulance. Though, I insisted that I was not injured. The police also got involved—took their merry time interrogating each and every one of us. Can you imagine? If only they used their resources on something much more important! It’s also the reason that I’m here so late.”

That’s… a lot. Again, Anna can’t help but to feel apologetic for this ordeal; because picture this: an old woman going out of her way to take such inconvenient transit in the middle of winter up a mountain, only to experience a car accident, leading to arduous checkups in the hospital, _and_ needing to sit through a police interrogation? God, what a day.

“I…” Anna starts, swallowing the lump down her throat, “… there isn’t much I can do to apologize, but I can make you something to eat. You must be hungry after all you’ve been through today.”

“We still have a bit of those mashed potatoes left, Anna. You should let Gerda have some of that. She would love it,” Elsa says.

She raises a curious brow. Earlier, Elsa asked to save the rest because she wanted to ‘savour it in the morning or as a midnight snack’ (further emphasizing how much she genuinely loves Anna’s cooking).

But then Elsa quickly adds, “You can make more for me tomorrow if we go get potatoes together, right?”

Gerda is the first to laugh, and the sound is so lovely it makes Anna herself chuckle.

“Yes, your highness,” Anna says. “I’ll make you so much that you’ll get sick of it and puke everything out,” she finishes with an eye-roll.

Elsa grins and hops right out of her seat, literally skipping to the kitchen ahead of Anna. “I can promise you that I will never, ever get sick of what you make. Let me just pop it in the microwave first. Gerda, do you want anything else? I think I can make you a quick salad as well…”

Anna, on her part, is about to go after the blonde to help out, but Gerda stops her. The elderly lady has taken her hand, gripping it in a gentle but firm hold. Anna follows the length of the woman’s arm, up to those kind eyes that have greeted her at the doorway earlier, and she stills.

No words are said; it is a quiet, brief, but an incredibly heartwarming moment. Gerda gives her this… how should she describe it? Grateful— _yeah,_ grateful is probably the best way to put this. Anna is given this grateful smile from the woman, and suddenly, it’s almost as though all the negativity in the world has been lifted. Anna brings her other hand up to hold onto Gerda’s, gripping it with an equal amount of strength, and she returns that smile with one of her own.

Some time passes. The microwave dings, and the smell of reheated mashed potatoes fills the room.

“Anna?” Elsa calls from behind the counter. “Can you help me see if this is warm enough?”

“Yeah,” she replies softly, tightening her grip on Gerda just a teensy bit more before pulling away. “Coming.”

And when she heads to the kitchen, she is filled with this odd sense of encouragement coming from Gerda’s tender gaze.

* * *

Gerda doesn’t stay for long. After the bit of food that she gets—which Anna swears isn’t enough (but according to the woman, old people don’t eat much)—Gerda insists that she is to return home, and since there isn’t exactly space in the dorm, nor is there a hotel up on campus, the couple can’t really convince her to stay the night. Well, Anna has (internally) considered the option of sleeping with Elsa on the couch while Gerda takes the bed, but… that’s just kind of weird. So yeah, _no._ Elsa, on the other hand, offers to drive her caretaker back, but Gerda takes it as a joke and demands the girl to call her a cab.

Anna does her one better by calling an Uber, because on the one hand, they can track when Gerda’s home, and on the other hand, it really is just safer.

Also, Anna is the one to use the app, and therefore she indirectly got the address to wherever Gerda stays, which she knows is the “estate” that belongs to Elsa’s grandfather.

In conclusion, Anna found out where Elsa lives.

She tucks her phone to her chest, hugging it with a wide grin to her face.

“What are you doing?” Elsa asks with a mock-suspicious smile as she come out of the shower, wearing the same loose t-shirt and short shorts as she always does.

Anna’s grin spreads to her ears. “Nothing.” She moves over on the bed, giving Elsa sufficient room to lie down beside her. “Come on, come on! It’s so cold, I want to hug you to sleep.”

Elsa shakes her head, prolonging that charming smile of hers when she walks over to switch off the lights. Anna swears that when Elsa walks, she _saunters,_ but she does so fiercely—especially with her hair down. It’s as though she’s walking down the runway. And, like, _look._ It’s not her fault that these model-analogies keep coming up; it’s just that Elsa is _that_ perfect, okay?! Anyway, the blonde fits snuggly in Anna’s arms, and the latter can’t help but to nuzzle her face into the crook of her neck. It’s second nature by now. Because, for real, how can Anna resist _not_ hugging Elsa?

“I know you’re tired of hearing this,” Anna says, “But you smell really freaking good. I can’t stop sniffing you.”

A soft laughter vibrates in Elsa’s chest. “What are you, a puppy?”

She snuggles closer, now directly speaking into Elsa’s skin. “I mean, you did say that I was cute.”

“Only when you’re not being perverted.”

“Hey, I think I’m being really innocent right now.”

“Mhmm,” Elsa nods slowly. “Very innocent.”

Anna grunts. But she’s not angry. Not one bit. She’s just glad that the Elsa she likes so much is back. She drapes an arm over the blonde’s stomach, pulling back a little so that she can look into Elsa’s gleaming eyes despite the darkness. The same arm moves slightly higher, sliding underneath Elsa’s loose t-shirt and Anna just stays there, tracing her thumb in a feather-light touch around the older girl’s navel.

A breathy sigh escapes Elsa, but she isn’t protesting. She tilts forward, bumping foreheads with Anna. “Pervert,” she whispers.

A sound of amusement comes out from Anna. She closes her eyes, tilting forward as well to kiss Elsa. Just a peck. “I think you like it, though,” Anna says, now stroking the blonde’s flat stomach. She makes sure to keep her hand in the same general area—purposely so—because it’s so obvious.

Elsa mewls.

Anna smirks to the sound.

It’s so obvious that Elsa really does like this. The touch, the whispers, the _teasing._

And that is why Anna doesn’t proceed. She retracts her hand, sliding her arm up to simply resume the hug.

She can’t see Elsa’s expression in the dark, but the feeling of her body no longer being so tensed is enough to let Anna know that Elsa was indeed anticipating something. She was ready. Maybe she even wanted it.

But Anna needs to prove that she isn’t perverted. Like, sure. What they did earlier this evening was exhilarating as hell; Anna would love to do it again, but it doesn’t dictate their entire relationship. God, no way. She’s not a nymphomaniac. There’s so much more she wants to try with Elsa. More dates, more movie nights, more moments together to just… well, _be together._ Not to mention that she’s quite serious about travelling abroad with her in the future. Or maybe just camping.

Just, basically, everything.

“Hey, Anna?”

Elsa’s minty breath brushes her lips. It’s nice—the coolness of the sensation. Anna uses that as an excuse to inch closer so that their lips would touch. “Yeah?”

A deep breath. Elsa cups a warm hand over the redhead’s cheek. “Thank you for today.”

Anna saw that coming. _How very Elsa,_ she thinks. But she tries to make it easier for Elsa, “For the mashed potatoes? Well, I mean, I should thank you for being its biggest fan. It is very flattering. Makes me want to open up my own _Anna Eriksen’s Magnificent Mashed Potatoes_ stall _,_ y’know?”

Her lame joke actually makes Elsa laugh, and it’s so, _so,_ satisfying to hear that sound. Anna basks in it, lets the wavelengths of Elsa’s rich voice fill her eardrums, and if this isn’t an _eargasm,_ then she doesn’t know what is.

Elsa finishes off by giving Anna a playful swat on the shoulder, prompting a small giggle from the redhead before continuing, “Here I am, trying to be serious. Why do you have to ruin the mood like that?”

“Hey, my mashed potatoes food stall is a very serious topic as well. It could be my future career! Why do you have to judge me?” she can practically feel Elsa rolling her eyes, which is amusing in its own right. Anna exaggerates a growl. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady!”

“You’re insufferable,” Elsa laughs.

“Only when I’m with you. Otherwise, I’ve been told that I’m the chilliest person in the world.”

“I’m about to make you chill on the floor by yourself if you don’t go to sleep soon,” she says.

When Elsa speaks, her voice just projects alongside her cheerful smile. If it weren’t so cold, Anna would get out of bed to switch on a light so that she can look at the girl. Just for a bit is enough, really. But for now, “Okay, okay,” she moves in, hiding in the crook of Elsa neck once more. “I’ll sleep.”

“Good girl.”

Anna giggles. A random thought comes to her. “Hey, Elsa. Can you tell me a story?”

There comes a short pause, and then a little ruffling of the blanket that they share. Elsa shifts to give Anna some more space on the bed. “You’re a child, aren’t you?”

Anna would argue that at times, Elsa’s the one who shows more childish characteristics, but this isn’t the Olympics or anything, so there’s no need to compete. In turn, she just nods. “I know you love spoiling me, though.”

Elsa emphasizes her sigh, but it’s not discerning—it never is. Nothing but adoration and amusement is attached to everything that the blonde does for her. “Alright,” she says. “What story would you like?”

Anna closes her eyes. “Anything. I think your voice has the power to put me to sleep.”

"Oh," Elsa almost sounds disappointed. 

But Anna quickly adds, "I mean your voice is beautiful, silly," 

The older of the two blinks. 

Anna grins, snuggling closer. "It'll be like listening to a lullaby. So."

Another sigh. This time of relief, Anna thinks. Fingers start dancing along the shoulder that Elsa’s wrapped her arm around. The blonde is seemingly browsing through her memory, searching for the perfect story. She does this, again and again; tapping, tapping. Until several heartbeats later, her fingers stop.

“Once upon a time,” Elsa starts in a soft voice, “there lived a happy family.”

Anna opens her eyes. “Ooh, exciting.”

Yet another audible smile comes from the blonde. She goes on, “There was papa, mama, and their little girl. They led a simple but very, very peaceful life together. But it wasn’t always like that.”

Anna lets her eyes fall shut. It’s easier to picture things this way.

“When papa wanted to marry mama, his father did not approve. You see, papa was to marry someone else—someone his father had chosen. But papa didn’t want that. So he chose to throw everything away to be with the woman he loved. It was hard at first, but as long as papa and mama had each other, they could accomplish anything.

“Soon, they were blessed with a baby girl. She wasn’t much, but she made them very happy. The little girl, just as well, was grateful to have such loving parents. The idle moments when she catches her parents dancing to the soft piano music playing in the background, swaying gently in each other’s arms in the living room—that’s when she’s the happiest. She would get a bit shy, though, when mama and papa asked her to join. This…” Elsa pauses, chuckling lightly, “… this one time, they actually decided to chase her around the house. She got a bit too ecstatic and ended up bumping her head into a wall. Not unlike a certain someone.”

Elsa’s lips press against Anna’s forehead, who just hums softly in response.

“Everything was perfect. Mama and papa were the girl’s entire world; the girl was mama and papa’s treasure. It’s something unforgettable. Something very precious.”

Anna slides her arms up to Elsa’s shoulder blades, pulling her body in so that they are flushed.

Elsa sighs. A shaky, trembling breath of remorse.

“But one day, this was all taken away from the little girl. She was left alone, because mama and papa were gone. For the longest time, she didn’t know if she could be her old self again. In fact, she couldn’t even speak to anyone. She would get night terrors, waking up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, in tears, suffocating. It was very hard for her during those times, which was why she had to… to see a lot of doctors. They were very scary, and the girl would cry every session.

“Luckily for her, she had a very kind caretaker. This caretaker would treat her as her own, and bit by bit, the girl healed. Night terrors would still happen from time to time, but at least she could finally breathe again.”

It’s surprising to say the least. Elsa’s voice is firm. There is no wavering. This is as practiced and articulate as Elsa’s speech usually is. Almost like she’s rehearsed this. _Has she rehearsed this?_ Anna doesn’t ask. She just runs her hands along Elsa’s back, down that spine, back up, down again.

“Life for the girl slowly returned to normal. She didn’t like interacting with people at school, so she chose to stay in the library. She played a lot of music, because her parents loved it. And, well, the girl loved it as well. Every key she hit on the piano would give her a glimpse of her parents dancing. So she practiced. She poured everything into the instrument. The more she played, though, the more tired she became. It was likely because she was starting to understand what illusions were. Just replaying ghosts of her memories. Nothing real. Nothing she could truly hold onto.”

Elsa stops. She chews on her lower lip, pulling back to check if the redhead is awake.

Which is completely ridiculous. Because of course Anna is awake.

She’s more awake than ever.

“… she can try holding onto me.” Anna whispers, suddenly coming to the realization that her throat is throbbing in pain, her nose burns, and her eyes feel hot.

What she just said—it is a firm, powerful statement. One that, Anna wonders briefly, if she has it in her to fully support—to fully commit to. Will she ever be enough?

She’s just a child, after all.

But when Elsa’s eyes start gleaming again, ever so brightly, Anna knows for sure.

“She can,” Elsa affirms in a short gasp, beaming as tears run down her cheeks.

Anna kisses away those tears, and even when there is nothing left to kiss away, she goes on, planting brief pecks along Elsa’s flawless skin.

“She…” the blonde manages through a hiccup, catching the younger girl’s attention. Their eyes find each other in the darkness, and Elsa finishes, “… she will.”

Anna smiles.

She is just a child, but she loves Elsa.

And that is probably enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, sorry for the delay!! I’ve been dying because of jetlag and this chapter was genuinely hard to write. I've also been planning another elsanna fic -- one that is (obviously) much darker than this one, so i guess that's good news xd
> 
> on another note, you guys are freaking crazy. 500+ kudos and 9000+ views??? wtf i can't thank you guys enough!!! never thought this plotless cluster-fluff would get so much attention!! i will continue with my writing as an appreciation to each and every one of you, so thank you sooooo much for your continued support! :D


	14. Chapter 14

“Good job today, Anna! Nice half-court!” Several of her classmates who have stayed to watch the game tell her, just as they get off the bleachers.

“Thanks,” she forces a smile.

The gymnasium is pretty much empty. Anna’s quite sure that those people just now stayed just to get a chance to talk to her for a second.

Not that she’s trying to be cocky, but lately, she’s been getting a lot more attention from people she’s never even spoken with. Never mind the kids at school; there has even been a steady increase in followers on her Instagram account. Upon observation, she can tell that they’re mostly people from other schools. While Anna knows that the reason is likely because of how well the Arendelle girls’ basketball team has been doing, and, yeah, it’s also because she is staying faithful to that MVP title, but. Like. She’s gotten seven-hundred more followers on top of her three-hundred-ish in the past two weeks.

She’s checked, by the way; they’re not spam accounts. They’re real life, active users who range from ages fourteen to eighteen. So, high school.

Moreover.

These random people are relentless! Not just guys, but _girls_ have been sliding straight into her DM’s! Sure, Anna does like the attention—she is a talkative person, after all, but now, she finds herself being spammed with messages pretty much all the time. It’s a good thing she doesn’t have any embarrassing photos on her account. Just mostly Rapunzel’s pet chameleon, a couple group pictures with the girls, with her family, and that MVP trophy she got last year. It’s pretty boring, to be honest. 

But. These. Freaking. People!

_‘Hey <3’ _

_‘You’re hot ;)’_

_‘Wanna meet up?’_

A bunch of weird messages from weird people who post nothing but weird selfies!

God, it’s too bad Elsa’s schedule for this semester prevents her from coming to watch the games. She’s either in her late afternoon classes or is busy tutoring. If only she were here, Anna wouldn’t be in such a mess.

She continues to scroll through her messages, and—god, what the hell is this?! This one is just a freaking eggplant emoji! What does that even mean?! Anna angrily deletes the messages. She’s better off setting her account to private for the rest of eternity—

“Hey, Anna. You headed home?” comes Mulan’s voice.

“Hmm?” instinctively, as if she has committed a crime of some sort, Anna swipes her Instagram window away before shoving her phone back into her pocket. “Oh, yeah. I’m meeting up with Elsa. She’s coming to pick me up in a bit.”

“Ooh,” her captain grins. “Meeting the parents?”

Anna frowns. “We’ve done that, like… a month ago.”

“Okay, but,” Mulan points out two fingers in each hand, making quotations, “Have you done _it_ yet?”

“Oh my god,” Anna slaps her hand against her forehead. And that actually really hurt. “Not you too.”

She laughs. “I’m kidding. I don’t care if you’ve done it or not—not my concern. Rapunzel only asks because she’s a virgin and all. You know how they are.”

Anna blinks. “Wait, what?” There is no correlation whatsoever in being a virgin and—

“Anyway,” Mulan cuts her off. “I’m off. See you Monday. I’ll add on to the slides over the weekend, yeah?”

“Uh,” the redhead shakes herself back to her senses. She can typically keep up with Mulan and her fast thinking, but seeing how she got slightly distracted, Anna got put into a spin for a bit. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“Alright. Have fun tonight.” Mulan sings the last part.

To that, Anna just rolls her eyes. She fishes for her phone again, and—no joke—another twenty-something new messages. This is crazy. She skims past them and is about to dismiss all when she sees Elsa’s message buried in between some of them. Her expression and mood immediately change; she taps into the blonde’s window in a blink of an eye and it reads, _‘Hey, I’m here.’_

Naturally, a grin spreads across her face. _‘Okay! Wait for me. I’m coming out now!’_

_‘Of course I’d wait. I did come to pick you up, didn’t I?’_

_‘Smartass,’_ Anna types as she heads out the gymnasium. She gets a little smiley face from Elsa in return, which just makes her smile harder. _‘I’m almost out,’_ she types, _‘Give me thirty seconds!’_

_‘Hey, focus on walking faster! And be careful, don’t fall on your face.’_

_‘Okay, okay! Twenty seconds!’_

If she were unlucky enough to bump into a teacher in the halls, Anna’s quite certain that she would get in quite a bit of trouble. After all, she is running in the hallways. But she’s lucky today. She bursts out of the doors and, seeing Elsa’s signature navy blue Mercedes Benz coupe parked right in front of her on the road, Anna takes off with the most ridiculous grin. As in, she just _sprints._ No restraint.

And, well, Anna being Anna, when she focuses far too much on one thing, she tends to neglect other things—such as how it is still winter, and that the roads are all iced up, and that she’s only wearing Converses, and so it is inevitable that she’d slip and lose balance and fall backwards—

“Whoa!”

—but then she doesn’t land. Something’s caught her and Anna finds herself in the arms of—

“Jeez, Anna. Lucky I caught you.”

She blinks. Puffs of her breath comes out in the form of faint condensation as she readjusts, quickly refocusing to identify who her saviour is.

“H-Hans!”

The boy, dressed in a sleek, long-sleeved Arendelle soccer team jersey and his perfect, slicked back auburn hair held up by a black wire headband, helps Anna stand upright. “Seriously, if I walked any faster, I think you would’ve knocked me over like a bowling pin.”

She laughs, sticking out a tongue in embarrassment. “Sorry, I was… yeah. I don’t have an excuse. Just wasn’t watching where I was going,” she starts fixing her hair, pushing fraying strands behind her ears. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Hans gives her the most charming and confident smile.

“Anna!”

Elsa’s voice comes from the direction of the car. The blonde, as beautiful as ever, comes running up to her. And although she is running much like Anna was doing so just seconds prior, Elsa is doing it with grace—with so much poise. _Man,_ if Anna can be half as elegant as this girl.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Elsa asks with worry even before she’s reached the redhead. And when she does, she takes Anna’s hands, moves to frame the younger girl’s face, reaches down to touch her shoulders, back up to her face; the concern is blatantly oozing out of everything that Elsa’s doing.

It’s so lovely, though. Anna likes how the blonde’s touch is so warm, so soft. She leans into her touch, smiling as reassuringly as possible before speaking up, “I’m fine, Elsa,” she points a thumb at Hans beside her. “Got saved by the soccer king himself,”

Takes a second, but Elsa doesn’t relax immediately. She lets out a heavy sigh before turning to the boy and gives him a small smile. “Thank you for that. Anna’s far too clumsy—I tell her to be careful all the time.”

“No worries,” Hans replies, returning Elsa’s smile with one of his own. “Anna’s always been the clumsy one. Been like this since she was a kid.”

Anna grunts, punching Hans arm lightly. “You can at least try to be a bit more subtle when you talk behind my back.”

“And not get a reaction from you?” he feigns a gasp, like he’s offended, “Now that’s no fun.”

Which weirdly makes the three of them break into a small chuckle. There is no surprise; Anna has always been somewhat of a clown. Besides, Hans is one of the few boys who isn’t an asshole and is chill enough to hang out with. So, she’ll let him go for this one. His sarcasm actually got Elsa to loosen up a little, so Anna will give him that.

When the laughter finally stops, Hans turns to Elsa, in a weirdly gentleman-like manner, might Anna add.

“Name’s Hans, by the way. Been Anna’s friend since… what, eighth grade? Ninth?”

“… sixth.” Anna corrects with mock-disdain.

Elsa giggles. “Nice to meet you,” she reaches out a hand. “My name is Elsa.”

“Ah,” Hans nods knowingly, smiling in the meanwhile, “Nice to meet you.” And then he gives Anna the _you-two-are-totally-banging-each-other_ look. Because he sees their connected hands. As in, the fact that Elsa’s holding onto Anna’s hand, gripping onto it like it’s her lifeline.

Anna glares at the boy, and she doesn’t make an effort to talk back. It’s not like he’s said anything wrong.

Hans’s smile widens a bit more before he turns his attention elsewhere, seemingly to look for something. It becomes apparent that he’s searching for his soccer ball, which he likely dropped when he caught her.

“Alright,” Hans walks over to the ball, not more than a few feet away. He does this cool thing where he picks it up with his foot before catching it midair with a finger, spinning it a few rounds before clutching it to his hip. “I’m heading off. It’s way too cold.”

“Mhmm,” Anna nods. “Thanks again. For saving my life.”

“Her Highness exaggerates,” Hans reverts back to that sarcastic voice, bowing to emphasize his humorous behaviour. He’s also smirking really mischievously, which, Anna admits, is more charming than it is annoying. It’s no wonder the school’s opinion on him is so divided. Some would label him as a ‘fuckboy’, while some would say that he’s the ‘nicest guy’, and really, he’s a bit of both. It really depends on who he’s around.

“See you around, Elsa. Nice meeting you.” He says to the blonde as he enters the school. Probably to the change room or something.

The moment the doors close behind him, Anna throws herself onto Elsa, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s slim waist as she buries her face in her scarf.

“Hey, calm down,” Elsa laughs. “You’re going to make both of us fall.”

“Aw, then you can just catch me heroically. I’m sure you can do it better than Hans.”

The blonde breathes out with amusement, taking Anna’s hand to lead her back to the car. “He seems like a nice guy,” she says as she opens the door for the younger girl.

Anna’s heart swells whenever Elsa does this. She waits for the blonde to enter the car before answering, “He’s alright. He can be quite a dick around people he doesn’t like, though. So I think I’m one of the luckier ones. I think he had a crush on me when we were in middle school.”

“Oh?” Elsa turns on the engine. She helps Anna turn on the seat warmer before rubbing her hands together. Seeing that, Anna naturally reaches for Elsa’s hands and rubs them together in hers. Elsa smiles to this and continues, “Why didn’t it work out?”

She shrugs. “I guess it’s because I never caught on. He started dating a bunch of other girls when I finally realized, so, yeah. Bad timing and all.”

“I see,” Elsa says. She slips her hands away to place them on the steering wheel. “Okay, seatbelts on.”

The sudden loss of Elsa’s touch leaves Anna pouting, but she doesn’t complain. She does as she is told and takes out her phone. Thirty-something new messages. Rolling her eyes, Anna just deletes them one by one, not even bothering to read them anymore as Elsa drives.

* * *

“Mom, dad, I’m home.” Anna calls as she enters the house. Elsa follows closely behind, a bottle of rosé wine in her hands.

“Oh, you’re earlier than expected,” her mother, having an apron wrapped around her waist, comes out from the kitchen. “Why don’t the two of you sit for a bit? We still have to wait for your father to come home, and I’m still working on the soup. And… Elsa,” she pauses, putting her hands on her hips, “did you bring something over again?”

Elsa chuckles lightly. “Forgive me, Iduna. I genuinely want to try this wine for myself this time—it’s not a gift, I promise.”

“You say that all the time, my dear, but we always end up being the one who like it more.” The woman sighs. “If I catch you bringing anything over the next time you come for dinner, I’m going to be very angry at you!”

There isn’t much threat to her mother’s words, which is why Anna catches Elsa laughing.

“Alright, off you two go. I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Anna salutes.

As per tradition, she gives Elsa those fluffy bunny slippers she likes so much, and then the two head upstairs, hand in hand. This entire scenario has turned into somewhat of a routine—a comfortable one, at that—since Elsa comes over for dinner at least once a week. Elsa was obviously quite apprehensive about it at first, seeing how she’s ‘intruding’ on Anna’s family time, but when Anna tells her that this is a request from her parents, Elsa has no rebuttal; how rude would it be to reject the adults’ offer? On occasion, Anna herself would go up to the mountain to hang out with the older girl. Depending on the day of the week, Anna would even stay overnight. It’s nice. Relaxing. Needless to say, the couple has fallen into quite a relaxed relationship as of late—which is a feat, considering how awkward they were when they first got together.

Still, Elsa remains as classy as ever. She removes her coat and scarf, hanging them neatly behind Anna’s door, and then she takes a seat in Anna’s chair.

Anna huffs. “Y’know, you can always sit on my bed, right?”

“Yes, but that’s impolite,” Elsa explains, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do, “I should always wait for your invitation.”

“Ooh,” Anna wriggles her eyebrows. She skips to her bed, patting the space beside her eagerly, “Then, here’s my invitation. C’mere.”

Elsa rolls her eyes playfully, but she stands without further question. “Just a hug, okay?” she states before sitting down.

“Mhmm,” Anna throws her arms around the older girl for her favourite side-hug. “But can I hug you while lying down? It’s more comfortable.”

“Okay,” Elsa smiles.

The redhead does a little internal cheer before flopping down onto her pillow. She opens her arms, and like clockwork, Elsa comes in, turning so that she can rest in the crook of Anna’s neck. It’s the most comfortable like this, for both of them. This is their default-falling-asleep-position, which comes to be problematic when they have plans later in the day, as neither of whom are particularly skilled at waking up on time.

And that being in each other’s arms is, really, the most comfortable thing ever.

Well, Anna’s the lighter sleeper, so technically it’s her responsibility. Plus, it’s not exactly like she can fall asleep now, with—

“Anna…”

“Yes?” she says.

“Your phone’s been vibrating quite a bit…”

“Ugh. Yeah. About that, just ignore it.”

“I…” Elsa starts, voice soft, but then she just gives up, “… okay.”

Which makes Anna realize—Elsa has a thing against impoliteness. Not answering the phone is probably one of her pet peeves. Anna’s really just guessing, but making Elsa uncomfortable is the last thing she wants to do. So, she fishes out her phone from her pocket. “Alright—” she unlocks it to show Elsa the spam of messages that she’s been receiving since forever. “Wow. I’m not even going to count the messages anymore. Oh, look. Fifty more followers, how exciting.”

“You don’t sound particularly excited,” Elsa quips.

“I don’t even know these people! They’re all just adding me because I’m MVP or something. Mulan—y’know, the team captain? She’s been having it worse,” Anna frowns, and then she grumbles the next part, “Except she’s smarter than me and had her profile on private since the beginning of time.”

“Why not private your account, then?”

“The thing is, I don’t even use Instagram. I just post random stuff once in a blue moon. Here, look—” she flips to her profile, showing Elsa the mundane posts that she’s uploaded in the past. “See? Nothing interesting. I seriously thought I can just ignore the random followers, but then…” she swipes to open up the messaging log. “Look at this. Look at these weirdos and their messages!”

Elsa takes the redhead’s phone. “’ _You have a nice butt’_ , peach emoji…”

“Elsa!”

“And this one says, _‘Be my girlfriend’_ , heart emoji.”

“Oh my goodness, stop!” Anna says that, but she can’t contain her laughter, just as much as Elsa is giggling herself. She yanks the phone out of the blonde’s hands and highlights all messages in two quick taps, removing them without second thought. “There. Good riddance. Next thing I need to do is to set my account to private.”

“Mm. Should’ve done so from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Anna’s halfway through the settings. “Bet you’re just mad I’m getting all this attention and there’s nothing you can do about it because you’re not on social media.”

A pause. And then—

“I’m not mad…” Elsa mumbles, her voice barely projecting.

Which, naturally, means she _is_ mad!

“Elsa…” Anna calls her name slowly, softly, because she’s got to be delicate with this one! Like, look at her, she’s pouting and everything, and, just.

“You _are_ mad.”

“No,” Elsa says stubbornly, still pouting.

“Are… you sure?”

The blonde huffs, stopping for a second to think of the words. “I just… I don’t like that other people are checking you out _._ ”

Anna blinks.

Elsa’s bottom lip puckers even more so.

_Ah, god._

“Wha—hey!” the blonde is pinned down by the redhead’s weight. “A-Anna!”

How can anyone resist this? How did Anna resist this for the past three weeks? It’s been nothing but hugs and kisses since that day with Gerda. Since they first _attempted_.

The underlying factor as to why they never tried to do it again is mainly because neither is ballsy enough to initiate. Well, at least Elsa’s not the type. And Anna—well, when it comes down to it, she would be the one in the relationship to lead. It’s written all over her personality. That’s just the way she is—taking initiative and stuff. But when it comes to Elsa, as with everything else that Anna associates the blonde with, extra care must be applied. And so, even in their compromising position right now, Anna holds back.

Dear lord.

She holds back; she just looks at the girl beneath her.

Anna just _looks_ at Elsa.

Elsa, clad in a nearly see-through white blouse, top three buttons undone; a bit of her cleavage along with the lacey blue bra showing. Elsa, with her arms on either side of her head. Elsa, with her round, blue eyes, half-lidded, like they have the ability to speak, like they have a personality of their own. Elsa, vulnerable. Elsa, at Anna’s mercy.

“Anna…” the blonde calls in a broken whisper.

Anna’s teal eyes dart right up, back to meet with Elsa’s. And while Anna knows that Elsa isn’t actively trying to look like it, her purple eyeshadow along with those long, dark, thick lashes make her appear so, _so_ seductive.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Anna snickers. She leans in close so that their lips would touch when she speaks.

A shiver runs down Elsa’s spine; Anna can see it. Literally. The blonde’s body trembles as it arches up, seemingly to make contact of some sort. The heat between Elsa’s legs become much more evident—much _hotter._ Oh god, Anna wants to touch her. She’s practically salivating from the thought of it.

“Wait, Anna…” Elsa doesn’t speak, she _moans._

“Yeah?” her own voice is raised slightly higher in pitch. “If it’s about my mom downstairs, we can be quiet.”

“No, it’s not that,” Elsa shakes her head. Hesitant, she glances to the side, chewing at her lower lip. A good moment later, she finally finishes, “… I have my period.”

Anna feels as though the earth has shifted. Like a giant chasm has formed on its surface and everything known to mankind is being swallowed up, falling into that dark abyss. The colour has left her face, and she’s even lost her perception of gravity until Elsa reaches to touch her, cupping her cheeks gently.

“I’m so sorry…” Elsa says in a quiet voice. “I should’ve told you earlier. B-but I—you make me forget things when you…” she swallows, and then she tries again, delicately, “… when you talk _like that.”_

Her eyelids flutter. “Like what?”

“L-like…” Elsa’s voice is getting softer and softer.

Anna smirks. She aims for Elsa’s ear, kissing the skin there before whispering, “Like when I say I want to _touch you?_ ”

Another shiver. This time, Elsa lets out a squeak.

“Mmn,” Anna hums in response. “Then, I’m sure we can figure something out.” She doesn’t wait for Elsa to answer her. Carefully, Anna slips her hands under Elsa’s shirt, sliding up that smooth and flat stomach with ease until she reaches those ample breasts. Anna pushes the bra up—unceremonious, abrupt, without warning—only to leave Elsa gasping in surprise. “Shh, shh,” Anna hushes right into Elsa’s ear, making sure to keep her voice low, “Don’t let my mom hear.”

It’s an instinct. Elsa clasps a palm against her own mouth.

Anna’s smirk widens into a sinister grin. God, she had no idea she has this in herself. To be so teasing to the point that it scares even herself if she stopped to think for a second. Which is why she isn’t going to stop. Hell, there’s no way she’s stopping. Not even if her mom comes in.

(No, but really. Please don’t come in!)

If she hadn’t any decency, Anna would have ripped Elsa’s blouse open. But, seeing how they still have to go downstairs for dinner soon, Anna decides to be gentle. Just a bit. She slips her hands out of Elsa’s shirt, only coming back in to unbutton it until it’s completely open.

_Holy shit._

Anna’s throat burns.

_Elsa’s boobs._

So full. So perfect.

She can’t resist. She’s possessed. Her mind is malfunctioning and she has no semblance of self-control left. Anna dives straight in, capturing a pink nipple in her mouth, while a hand tends to the other one. The sounds that Elsa makes behind her hand—hissing, gasping, heavy panting—all serve to push Anna on, encouraging her. Just as her fingers pinch, twist, and squeeze the hardened bud, she sucks, nibbles, and bites in accordance. When Elsa tenses, Anna would ease her by treating her more softly, more gently. She would trace the blonde’s areola in small circles, making sure to not touch the tip. With her tongue, just as well, she would do the same. Circling the pinkish skin around the bud, occasionally flicking the tip ever so mischievously _._ Anna does this with extra care, extra affection. She pours in everything for Elsa. For Elsa to feel good.

And Elsa, in turn, writhes so beautifully. The way her body twists and contorts like a dancer, and when she moves like that, the faint muscles underneath her silky white skin would ripple. This radiates throughout her body, and at times, Elsa would tremble furiously. Anna, in response, holds onto her with an arm, wrapping it around the blonde’s waist whenever the latter’s response becomes too intense. She holds her close—close enough to reassure Elsa that she’s here. To soothe her.

“I’m here,” Anna says with Elsa’s nipple in her mouth.

It’s incredible. In a moment of clarity, Anna tells herself to look up. To look at the blonde’s expressions. Elsa is so responsive. How her brows are creased together, how her eyes are shut in desperation, how she’s _still_ trying to muffle her voice.

Anna _sucks._

_“Nnn!”_

So sensitive. The redhead smirks. And her voice—it’s so beautiful, so alluring.

Don’t stop. _Don’t stop—_

 _“_ Anna, _Anna…”_ comes Elsa’s voice. “Please, Anna. _Don’t stop.”_

The words are hardwired into her brain. It’s all that Anna can hear. That along with Elsa’s moans. She sucks harder. Bites harder. Pinches harder.

Elsa’s voice rises. Her pants grow heavier, and her moans are no longer suppressed by her hand, which has long found its way in Anna’s hair. She tugs at the younger girl’s loose hair, pulling her in for more, begging, “Please, please, _please…”_ as her legs wrap themselves around Anna’s hips, locking the redhead in place.

Not like Anna’s going anywhere, but she definitely likes how passionate Elsa is being. She alternates between being gentle and rough, making sure to give equal attention to Elsa’s breasts. She finds that whenever she pinches or bites hard enough, Elsa would be left squealing, back arched. But as soon as she flicks the nubs, Elsa would relax, coming down with quiet gasps. It’s all so fascinating when she takes the time to experiment with Elsa’s body like this.

Anna kisses along the blonde’s chest, following the bumps of her collarbones, up the tendons of her neck, that perfect jawline, and then she finds her way back to Elsa’s ear again. Her other hand takes over the breast that her mouth has abandoned, and both hands continue to massage and squeeze, pinch and tweak.

“Anna— _oh god…”_

She pecks Elsa’s cheek. “Yeah? I’m here. Tell me what you need. I got you.”

Elsa turns her head so that they can face each other. “I-I need—Anna…” she bucks her hips. Her centre touches Anna’s stomach, and that alone grants Elsa a moment of solace. She rolls her eyes to the back of her head, her jaw hangs loose, and she just _unwinds_. Elsa does it again—she _needs_ it again, but before she can touch Anna’s stomach this time, the latter stops her.

“No, Elsa,” Anna warns, like an adult disciplining a child.

Confused and perhaps slightly taken aback, Elsa freezes.

But Anna can’t possibly bear to scare this girl for too long. It would break her heart. So, she acts quickly. Anna lifts Elsa up, switching their positions so that she would be lying against the headboard, whereas Elsa would be straddling her.

“Is this okay?”

Elsa looks more impressed by Anna’s strength than anything. Eventually, she nods.

“Good.” Anna smiles. She reaches for Elsa’s hips, “Come on, Elsa,” she jerks her body in a sudden, abrupt force, sending the blonde falling forward, but Anna catches her without trouble. “Don’t take too long,” Anna whispers into Elsa’s ear. “Dinner’s going to be ready soon.” She sucks onto the earlobe before continuing the next part, “Imagine being left like this throughout dinner.”

Her words trigger something in Elsa. She doesn’t even hesitate this time. Elsa just goes straight to it. Her hips start moving, grinding along Anna’s stomach. It seems that all she needs is some sort of friction—any sort—because she is so, _so_ close. As far as Anna can tell, Elsa’s body has long experienced multiple tremors. And Anna is able to achieve that for her by just touching her breasts. _God._ What an enigma. So beautiful, so sensitive, so responsive.

Anna keeps her eyes on the blonde as she moves—back and forth, back and forth. Elsa’s frantic movements make her breasts jiggle and bounce; strands of white-gold hair fall out of her perfect updo. And Anna just _watches._

“A-Anna, I’m _… I’m gonna_ —”

Her response is instant. Anna pulls Elsa in, wrapping her arms around the girl. “It’s okay, Elsa. I’m here. It’s okay.”

Elsa throws her arms around Anna’s head, lunging in for a deep, fervent kiss. Her hips grind faster, _faster,_ to the point that Anna actually feels a burn—like her clothes are chafing her skin. But she doesn’t fight it. She arches her back, letting Elsa feel more, and just as she does this, Elsa halts all movements. Her hips stop. Her arms locked around Anna’s head tightens. In that split second, everything freezes. And then a deep, throaty groan—one that rumbles throughout Elsa’s trembling body—and the blonde comes undone.

“That’s it, that’s it…” Anna whispers, planting kisses all over Elsa’s face, “You’re okay, Elsa,” her kisses move down to the blonde’s neck, her chest, and her breasts. Anna kisses each nipple tenderly, the slight contact sending another tremor through Elsa’s body. She can only stroke along the girl’s back to soothe her, to even out her breath.

“ _Mmm…”_ Elsa snuggles impossibly closer, nuzzling her face in Anna’s neck.

_Aww!_

Anna is able to resist a giggle, but she can’t resist a, “Good girl.”

… which, strangely, makes Elsa moan in what sounds to be contentment. The girl also starts kissing Anna’s skin, every bit of affection from Elsa being drilled into her through these gentle touches.

Holy shit. D-does Elsa have a praise kink?

No, scratch that. Not just praise. It’s a freaking voice kink, isn’t it?!

The fact that she’s so responsive whenever Anna talks to her. The fact that Elsa herself confessed that she gets all forgetful whenever Anna talks _like that._

Wow!

She grins. “Elsa—”

“I’m still mad at you.”

Anna tenses, all prior intention to make fun of the blonde, vanished. “W-what?”

Elsa shifts a little in Anna’s arms. “I-I said, I’m still mad at you.”

“Wait,” she laughs, “But it’s not my fault they check me out!”

“I… I don’t want them to look at you.”

_Huh?_

She’s not sure if this really is Elsa talking. Anna looks down, and, sure enough, the blonde is staring at her with her large, round eyes, flushed in a healthy pink, still pouting like a child.

It makes Anna’s heart leap.

“You’re oddly possessive, aren’t you?” Anna says.

“I… I’m sorry,” Elsa says softly, sadly. “I don’t want to come off as one of those girls, but you told me to tell you whenever something bothers me…”

She did. Anna really did. And she’s so glad that Elsa remembers. It brings a smile to her face. “Okay. I’ll private my account right now.”

“S-sorry…”

“Hey,” Anna warns, but her voice is light. “What did I say about apologies? You didn’t even do anything wrong.” She slides her hand around on the mattress blindly to look for her phone. Takes a few tries, but she finally gets it. “I should say sorry for not taking your words seriously.”

“Mmn,” Elsa shakes her head, in turn nuzzling deeper into Anna’s neck. “But you listened in the end. So it’s okay.”

Elsa’s voice is delicate, almost childish. More so than usual, anyway. Is it the dopamine working? Or oxytocin? Or whatever it is that gets released after an orgasm. Whatever it is, Anna decides that she likes it. It makes the blonde’s cuteness level rise up by one thousand percent.

Not that she’s implying that they should have sex more often, but. Yeah.

(Well, they certainly _could.)_

She is, however, suddenly inspired to do something crazy.

“Elsa?”

“Hmm?” the girl mumbles.

“My account’s private now, but I still have a ton of followers I need to block and remove, and that’s kinda too much work.”

Elsa doesn’t respond, seemingly to wait for her to go on.

So, Anna clears her throat, “What I’m saying is… maybe you can help me out instead?”

“Help you out, how?” Elsa says, curious.

Anna smiles. She selects her camera app and sets it to selfie mode. “How about I post an _‘I’m taken’_ picture? That way, people would know to stop sending me those weird confession messages.”

“That’s…” Elsa hesitates. She glances around, her eyes darting from one corner of the room to another, like she’s searching for something.

“I-I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to—”

“No, no! I’ll…” Elsa clings onto Anna’s shirt with her fingers. “… okay. What should I do?”

“Easy,” Anna’s smile returns. “Give me your RBF and just stare straight at the camera.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

Elsa nods. She gives herself a moment to find the right expression, and then she does as she is told—glaring straight at the lens.

Anna, admittedly, feels quite intimidated when she sees that. Although she will forever stand by her word that Elsa does not have an RBF, she can now see why others may think otherwise; it’s because Elsa does not have the ability to present Anna with such a face. This is the reason Anna has never seen it. Elsa only saves the softest, most wonderful expressions for her.

But. Back on topic.

Anna, likewise, summons all she has to make an RBF of her own. She turns a little, pressing her lips on Elsa’s temple while keeping her eyes on the camera.

_Snap_

“Done.” Anna saves the photo, and then she immediately goes to the editing options.

“Do you really have to filter it?” Elsa asks.

Truthfully, no. The picture in itself actually turned out quite nicely, but this is not what Anna is after. “One sec,” she says. “I’m not the best at this editing stuff, but I have learned a few things from Rapunzel…” Anna explains as she makes the photo black and white. She sharpens the texture, adds in more shadow, brightens the corners, and highlights only blue. Since the only shades of blue in the photo are their teal and cerulean eyes respectively, they glow fiercely in the monochromic picture. “There we go.”

“Wow.”

 _Wow_ is right. Not to brag, but this puts a lot of those romantic drama movie posters to shame. In fact, this looks more like a high-fashion magazine cover. It looks like it belongs on _Vogue_. Elsa with her glowing deep blue eyes, literally glaring at the camera. Anna with her lighter blue eyes, face half covered by Elsa’s disheveled _but still perfect_ hair, but is staring just as fiercely into the camera. Anna likes to believe that their gazes scream _don’t touch her, she’s mine_ , which should be enough to make the statement she originally had in mind, right?

Not to mention that Elsa’s clothes are evidently messed up. But, yeah, the lower part is cropped off. Nobody has to know.

Anyway, what Anna wants to point out is that this picture is sexy as hell.

“Do you mind if I used your bathroom?” Elsa asks as she sits up.

“Hm? Nope. Go ahead.” She keeps her eyes on the blonde, at that bra, and at that unbuttoned blouse, until she disappears into Anna’s bathroom.

… Yes, where was she?

The picture.

Right. Caption.

Anna’s fingers hover in the air for a bit, until she decides to just go with her gut feeling.

_‘Mine.’_

Doesn’t bother with the location, doesn’t bother with the tagging (Elsa doesn’t even have social media), doesn’t bother with the hashtags.

Aaaand post.

The photo is the first on the feed, and, because Anna merely had three hundred or so followers back then, so she can say with confidence that having a barrage of ‘likes’ in the first ten seconds is nothing short of overwhelming. And, what do you know? Rapunzel’s among one of the first to like— _oh,_ and she commented as well.

 _‘You two are actually so cute together,_ heart eyes emoji’.

A couple more comments from people she doesn’t care too much about, most of whom are classmates. Wow, and Hans too—

 _‘Hot,_ fire emoji’.

Psh. Anna chortles. Typical.

She spends a few more minutes swiping through the posts but quickly becomes bored. It’s so confusing how people can get addicted to this. When Elsa finally emerges out of the bathroom with her clothes and her hair fixed, her mother calls them down for dinner.

* * *

Dinner is relatively normal. Her parents always find joy in conversing with Elsa, and her girlfriend, likewise, loves speaking with those two. Anna herself would only talk when she’s being spoken to, but since Elsa is the star of the show whenever she’s over, Anna opts to stay quiet. She’s heard of all these stories about their annoying clients, anyway. But since Elsa’s never seen the life of lawyers—or, more specifically, barristers—she is completely fascinated by how they represent both themselves and others in court.

“Speaking of annoying clients,” her father exaggerates a sigh. He wipes his mouth with the napkin by his plate before continuing, “Honey, have you told Anna yet?”

“No, I thought you were going to do it? It’s your case, after all.”

The man shrugs and nods, like he’s annoyed and agreeing at the same time. “Anna, your mother and I will be flying to Monaco next week. We’ll be gone for most of February.”

No joke—Anna actually chokes on her food. Lucky it’s just soup. She feels Elsa patting her back and she pounds her own chest aggressively. “Wait, what?”

“I got myself this hotshot client who’s _way too important_ to come meet me. He’s paying all the expenses for me to meet him, so, why not?”

“And… why is mom going as well? Is this a joined-chamber kind of case?”

Her mother laughs. “No, actually, it isn’t.”

“Well, to be honest…” her father cuts in, “… since it is France that I’m going to, I thought, why not take your mother along? It’s been a while since we’ve gone on vacation. We could use the time to relax.”

“Wow.” Anna crosses her arms. “And you didn’t think to tell me until a week before your departure? What if I’m not mentally prepared? Aren’t you scared that I’m going to burn down the house?”

“Oh, we’re not worried at all!” her father grins. “You and Elsa can just take care of each other.”

“Yes, exactly. You may go up to NMU to stay with Elsa over the weekend, and if Elsa so wishes, she may come stay over at our house. You have enough money in your savings account to buy food,” her mother rambles on. “Remember to budget, okay? Don’t buy too much takeout; use your money on groceries to make food, instead. That way, you can make extra to have for leftovers.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Anna waves her hand. “I think you guys kind of breezed over something really important.”

“What might that be?”

“You’re seriously leaving behind your seventeen-year-old daughter to fend for herself in the winter while you guys go partying at Monaco?!”

Her father blinks. “Technically, I will be working at Monaco. Paris, Bordeaux, Cannes, and Strasbourg are where we will be partying.”

“Paris—” she is at a loss for words. “You guys already planned out your trip!”

“Well, yes,” her mother answers this time. “When there’s nothing else to do at the office, this is all that we do. You’re okay with this, right, Elsa?”

The blonde smiles. She nods politely. “Yes, of course. This is no problem at all.”

“Ah, spoken like a mature, young lady,” Anna’s mother clasps her hands together proudly. Then, she turns to her daughter. “Okay, Anna. Help me with the dishes, will you? I also need you to bring out dessert for me.”

Anna rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t protest.

“Let me help as well,” Elsa stands.

But she is quickly stopped by Anna’s father. “No, please, Elsa. Sit! You’re a guest. Here, have some more of this rosé. You truly have the best taste in wine…”

Anna doesn’t hear the rest. She’s already gone into the kitchen with her mother. Out of habit, she opens up the dishwasher with her foot. It’s something she does regularly to piss her mom off—for good fun, of course. It’s mostly to show the woman that she’s done something to annoy her daughter, really.

“Now, now, don’t be throwing a fit,” Iduna chimes in.

“Can you blame me, though?” Anna groans. “Getting ditched by your parents like this…”

“It’s not like you can come with us. You’re in the middle of your second term!”

“Well, I mean. It’s been so long since we travelled together as a family. Can I help it that I’m slightly jealous?”

“Aw,” the woman pats her daughter’s head gently. “Perhaps in the summer we can go somewhere together. Maybe ask Elsa to come along?”

Hearing that, Anna’s mood changes. Her frown is replaced by a small smile. But she doesn’t make it too obvious. Instead, she just continues to shove the dirty dishes onto the rack.

“Ah, now there’s the cute smile,” Iduna chuckles.

_Ugh. Damn it._

“Still, Anna…”

Uh oh. Her mom’s turned on her serious voice.

“When we’re gone, make sure you don’t fool around too much, okay?”

“If you think that I’ll be hosting parties and all, don’t worry. I will never do such a thing. Too much to clean up—I’d rather go to one than host one, seriously.”

“That, I know,” her mother states. “What I mean is…” she checks the doorway to the dining room and then lowers her voice, “Don’t _fool around._ ”

Anna tilts her head. It isn’t until her mother gives her this stern look that she realizes—“OH!” she covers her mouth, “Oh!” her voice coming out in a whisper. “ _Mom!_ I’m not—Elsa and I are girls! It’s not like either one of us is going to get pregnant!”

“Yes, but,” Iduna grabs a detergent packet and places it into the little compartment inside the dishwasher. She’s avoiding eye contact. This conversation is making her as uncomfortable as it is making her daughter. “You should still have some self-control.”

“Oh my god,” Anna face-palms. She can’t believe that she’s having this conversation with her mother. On the one hand, she is quite embarrassed that her mother is telling her right now that she heard everything (it was mostly just Elsa moaning, so that’s fine), but on the other hand, her mother thinks that she is some hormonal, horny, nymphomaniacal teenager. That—she will have to debunk. “Mom,”

“Yes?”

“Elsa and I—” Alright. How is she going to explain this? Okay, _whatever—_ “We’ve never really. Y’know. It never… um. We never went all the way? Elsa’s really shy. So…”

“Okay, stop.” Iduna thrusts a palm right in front of Anna’s face. “I… don’t need to hear the rest. Just remember: self-control.”

“Yeah, I have a ton of that, I think,” Anna says. “But I’m sorry you hired such a hot math tutor for me, mom. So this one’s really on you.”

Her mother gives her a look.

“Speaking of self-control, though, make sure that when you and dad come back, you won’t be bringing along a new little brother or sister for me.”

And Anna would go on to regret what she has jokingly said to her mother, because her forehead goes on to pulse furiously for the rest of the night, after the woman flicked her finger there.

When she tells Elsa what happened, the blonde just laughs.

Well, at least she got some kisses from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shameless plug: please check out my new elsanna story aphelion if you haven't. it's much darker than this one, so it may not be what you like, but do check it out nonetheless :)


	15. Chapter 15

“You guys got your passports?”

Her father checks the pockets of his carry-on. “Yep, got them right here,” he pats the area confidently.

“Got your boarding passes?”

Her mother quirks a brow. “Anna, you’re supposed to be the young one here, but why do you ask such an old-person question?”

She grunts. Getting mocked by the older generation over technology never sits well with her. So, in one breath, she tries again, “Let me rephrase that: do you guys have the QR code for your boarding pass so that you don’t have to go through the trouble of having those people at the check-in counter take three hours printing them out for you?”

“Much better,” Iduna smiles. “Yes, dear daughter, we have it saved. We’ll get through everything smoothly.”

“Alright.” Anna says.

Her parents then stare at each other, only to turn to her in unison with their arms spread.

Anna grins. She runs towards them for the family hug that she has no idea she wants. At least, not until now. “See you in… however long till you guys decide to come back.”

“It’ll be a month at most,” her father chuckles. “You say it like we’re abandoning you.”

“You technically are,” Anna argues, but she is smiling.

“Now, now,” her mother laughs along. “We’ll get you a souvenir from every city we visit. We’ll even get you something separate for your graduation present, okay?”

She huffs in mock disdain. “Fine. I guess I’ll forgive you this one time.”

While her mother gives her a tight hug, her father ruffles her hair. They hear a honk outside, and the two adults take the cue to pick up their luggage.

“Okay, Anna. Take good care of yourself, you understand?”

“Yes, dad. You told me this at least five times since I woke up.”

Her mother strokes her cheek, cupping them with both hands. “We’ll be texting you every day. Promise to text back no matter what. If anything happens, you let us know right away. Or,” she pauses, “Let Elsa know. She’ll be here quicker than we ever can so—”

“I know, mom. Stop worrying so much.” Anna frowns.

Agnarr laughs, his deep voice bringing Anna a sense of reassurance. “Honestly, knowing Elsa, she’ll probably be here _before_ anything even happens. So, Anna’s right about that. We don’t have to worry.”

That… is not a lie. Anna agrees with her father wholeheartedly.

Iduna smiles. “Alright.” She kisses Anna on the forehead, “Remember to turn the stove off after you cook, lock the door when you leave the house, and dress warmly. It’s still wintertime, after all.”

“Okay, okay, mom. Jeez,” Anna laughs. She follows them to the doorway, stopping right at the threshold because she’s not about to go out there in the cold. Anna crosses her arms, bites her teeth to resist shivering. The weather’s pretty nice considering everything, but Anna doesn’t really do well in the cold. “Safe flight. Don’t get lost. Download a French translating app before you head out. And you better not have too much fun without me!”

She sees her parents laugh and shake their heads. Yeah, no. Of course they will have a ton of fun. What she said was redundant. She watches their cab drive off, all the way until it turns at the corner of the street and disappears from sight.

Anna heaves a sigh.

She turns to head back inside, leaning against the front door to shut it, and, despite the time of the day, when she raises her head to look into the empty hallway, she finds that it’s suddenly appearing so much wider, emptier, and darker than usual. Really, she told herself that she can do it. It’s not the first time she’s home alone—her parents go on business trips quite a bit. But they’re never gone for more than a week. This is definitely something new.

“Don’t be a kid, Anna,” she actually says out loud—more like _mumbles—_ before cupping her own cheeks, hitting them lightly to shove some sense into herself. Not that it actually works, but at least the slight pain distracts her a little.

Maybe she should do something productive? Rehearse a little for that presentation she and Mulan have for history this coming week? _Nah,_ that’s dumb. They’ve finished with their slides, practically memorized everything they need to present, like, two weeks ago. Maybe she can study for the equilibrium chapter for the upcoming chem test in… _er, several weeks._ Okay, that was a dumb idea. Oh! She can ask Rapunzel to send those English notes over. To look over what nonsense Ms. Tremaine has to say about Huxley _._

 _…_ On second thought, maybe that’s not such a great idea.

What she writes in her papers always clashes with Tremaine’s points anyway. No matter how much Anna tries to cater to Tremaine’s liking, no matter how objective her tone is, her English teacher would always find a way to point out Anna’s flaws. Anna herself has gotten tired of complaining to Tremaine. But, like! The woman is extremely biased against the protagonists in all works that she’s covered! She always finds the worst in these characters and never highlights the good parts. Which is exactly why Anna hates her English class. It’s always so depressing. No amount of being in the same class as her best friend can ever make up for it.

Anyway, why did this come up? Oh, yeah. Anna needs to find something to do.

Hm.

She dives into her bed, which she actually has made a habit of making (in case _a certain someone_ comes over). Anna reaches for the pillow to hug it close. She squishes it tightly and breathes in. What exactly can she do on a fine, Sunday afternoon?

No to over-rehearsing. No to studying for a test that isn’t coming up for another month or so. No to going over notes that she doesn’t agree with.

 _Oh,_ what to do.

What can she do that does not require her to call _Els—_

 _Okay,_ nope.

No, no, no. She… Anna told herself that she won’t do it. Can’t be like this. Can’t be so overly attached. She can do this herself. She can last a few days without the presence of another— _she can do it!_

Plus, Elsa’s got stuff to do. It’s midterm season; god knows how busy engineering students are. Not only does the blonde have her own assignments and tests to deal with, her tutoring sessions haven’t stopped. In fact, Elsa’s been saying that she’s gotten so many referrals lately, she’s having trouble turning them down. Needless to say, Elsa’s got enough trouble to deal with. And so, Anna doesn’t want to bother her.

They can just hang out over the weekend. No biggie.

… Even if she is feeling a bit lonely and in need of a hug.

_Man._

She buries her face into her pillow.

It’s a waste of time, but she can always take a nap. Yeah. _Yeah._ She should just do that.

Have a nice dream. Make herself a nice dinner when she wakes up. What’s in the fridge? Her mother stocked up on groceries yesterday, so maybe she can make some macaroni—

_Bzz bzz bzz_

What the—who’s calling her at this time? She reaches for her phone and… _huh?_

_Hans Westergaard_

Wait, what?

Anna sits up, a look of confusion twisting her features. “Hello?”

 _“Anna!”_ comes his voice. There’s a lot of static from his side—sounds like he’s outside.

“Hans,” she blinks. “Did you call the wrong number? I’m pretty sure you’ve never called me before—”

_“No, no! I’m calling you for real. I need your help. Actually, we need your help.”_

“We?” Anna stands from her bed, “Who is _we_?”

 _“The guys!”_ Hans says, _“Are you free right now? Can you come to the basketball court a few blocks down from school?”_

“The one with the crappy playground next to it?”

_“Yeah, that one. How quick can you get here?”_

“Uh,” she grabs her jacket from the closet and takes off her pyjama shorts to slip on a pair of leggings. “If I sprinted, maybe fifteen minutes. Why?”

_“Alright, don’t sprint. Just speed walk. We need you to save your strength.”_

Anna heads down the stairs and puts on her sneakers. “Why does it sound like you’re recruiting me to beat somebody up…?”

He laughs through the phone. _“Not beating anyone up, don’t worry. Just need your skills. Playing basketball with a few dudes from Southern Isles,”_ he pauses, lowering his voice a little, _“They’re cocky as shit, I’m telling you. I fucking hate them.”_

“Okay… where do I fit in?”

_“We’re—ugh. We’re pretty desperate right now, and the guys know that I’m tight with you, so they’re asking me to ask you to come help out…”_

“Psh,” she locks the door behind her, “We are not _tight,_ Hans. We haven’t had a class together since… I dunno, two years ago?”

_“Whatever. Just. Help a brother out and come play for us? The soccer and basketball teams aren’t exactly on good terms, so I can’t ask those assholes.”_

“Uh huh. The infamous rivalry between the two Arendellian teams, which is the pettiest thing in the world, really,” Anna says as she quickens her pace. “I mean, if you didn’t sleep with _what’s-his-face’s_ girlfriend, you would all still be fine—”

_“First of all, I didn’t sleep with Jessie. We got drunk at a party and she got all handsy and—you know what? Lecture me later. Just come, quick.”_

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.” Anna hangs up and shoves her phone in her pocket.

Well, not like she has anything better to do. What better way to waste time than to play her favourite sport?

* * *

“Hans,” Anna enters the court, approaching the boy in question. She sees a group of guys on the other side of the court, each one of them standing tall and stiff, like they’re posing or whatever. Man, guys can be so extra.

“Anna, you’re here!” he gestures for her to come close.

“As promised,” she nods at the rest of the guys. Anna spots Naveen, whom she shares a few classes with, but she’s not familiar with Herc and Eric. All she knows is that these boys are on the senior boys’ soccer team.

“Okay, so we don’t really have much of a strategy. We’re just in need of one more person. And who better to call than MVP Eriksen?”

“You can always call Mulan,” she rolls her eyes, zipping down her jacket. “She’d be way more down than I to play against boys.”

“She’s busy,” Naveen states. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Not important now that Anna’s here,” Hans shakes his head. “Can you just carry the team? I’m really fucking tired of their smug looks. God, I’m _this_ close to going over there to punch them in the face.”

“Jeez, calm down,” Anna chuckles. “If you tell me that you’re this toxic when you play sports, I seriously question how you got _your_ MVP title.”

“Oh, he’s not usually like this,” Herc laughs, fixing his headband to get his hair out of his eyes. “We just really freaking hate those guys and don’t want to lose to them.”

“Mhmm,” Eric joins in. He crosses his arms, keeps his eyes on the opposite end of the court to try to look as intimidating as he possibly can (which Anna thinks is pointless, because he has this natural, nice-guy look on him). “One of their players faked an injury and got Hans his first red card last week,” he explains.

Anna feels a chill run down her spine. Hans, standing beside her, does this loud hissing sound. Wow, he’s actually livid. To the point that it’s very amusing to watch. Though she’s not actually going to say it out loud. Anna holds back a laugh. “Alright, okay,” she ties up her hair in a ponytail, as she usually does for her games. “Let’s win this thing for you.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Hans says through gritted teeth.

She keeps on reminding herself not to laugh—but this seriously is so funny. Anna decides that even if she’s never dated boys before, they can be fun. Kind of like children, really. But ultimately, they are quite hilarious. So pointlessly competitive and all.

* * *

Perhaps it’s because the guys are fuelled by an irrational rage; perhaps it’s because they already have so much chemistry together—or, if Anna may, perhaps it is because she has great assisting _and_ scoring skills, but Arendelle beat Southern Isles by quite a bit within the time limit. Granted, they’re not playing an official game, nor are they regular basketball players or anything, but sixty-five to thirty-four in under an hour is a crazy achievement. Hell, Anna thinks that she’s on par with the boys’ basketball team.

“Here, Anna, catch,” Herc passes her an unopened water bottle. “Brought extra,” he grins.

“Thanks,” she smiles back and gulps down as much as she can. Honestly speaking, that was one of the most exhilarating games she’s played. Going against boys really does require more energy than usual. Her legs are all wobbly, and this has never happened during the games she’s had with the other schools when playing against girls. Legit, she feels that she’s pushed herself to the limit. This is the most she can do, and damn, is it satisfying.

“Jesus, Anna,” Eric dabs his face into his towel. “I’ve heard you’re good, but I never knew you were _this good._ ”

“Well,” Anna starts, trying to be modest, “You guys are already athletes. I’m just here for support.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hans chuckles. “Coming from the girl who scored like thirty points. I’m more surprised that you were able to outrun them. God, you’re quick. Ever thought of giving soccer a go?”

She downs the rest of her water before answering. “Isn’t that a bit too late?”

Hans can’t respond, because one of the guys from the other team has come over. And even though he doesn’t look like he’s trying to start trouble, the boys on her side immediately stand up, as if they’re ready to fight—as if they’re _about_ to fight.

“The hell do you want?” Hans demands. Wow, he’s aggressive. Somebody tell him to get that temper in check.

“Yo, chill, bro,” the guy says, giving Hans this annoyed look. “Not here to start shit. Just wanna ask the girl something.”

Oh, man. What now?

Anna stands up from the ground. She taps Hans’ shoulder to tell him to step back. “Um, can I help you?” she asks timidly.

“Y-yeah, uh,” the guy starts, stuttering and all. “I heard them calling you Anna?”

“Yep, that’s me,” she says.

An evident blush fills the guy’s cheeks. Admittedly, Anna is dense; she usually has difficulty reading other people when it comes to stuff like this, but she can definitely tell where this conversation is going. The guy goes on, “Do you mind if, er, you, uh… i-if I could follow you on Instagram?”

_What?_

“Uh, um…” Anna feels a rush of blood go up to her face. Ugh, she must be blushing as well. God, she doesn’t want to send him any wrong ideas! She’s not turning red other than the fact that she’s feeling nervous! _Ahh!_ What to do?! “I-I…”

“Or Snapchat? Facebook? TikTok? Anything works.”

 _No,_ she wants to answer. She doesn’t use any of those! Facebook, yeah, but— _no!_ Anna starts gnawing at her bottom lip. Being overwhelmed with confusion and having your nerves shoot sparks in your brain, leading to these illusions of fireworks shooting behind your eyes is not a good feeling, she can personally proclaim. Hell, she’s starting to feel dizzy. Anna doesn’t know what to do—how does one reject a person? _Ugh—_ she’s never had to deal with things like this before…!

“She’s not interested, bro,” Hans says bluntly.

_Oh, thank goodness._

Anna visibly relaxes.

The guy glares at Hans. “Hey, let the girl tell me herself.”

“Nah, dude,” Herc joins in. “She’s actually _not_ interested.”

“What, she your girlfriend or something?” the guy says to Herc, and then his eyes start to wander. Like the question’s directed at everyone here.

At that, all the boys start chuckling.

“Okay, yeah,” Eric rolls his eyes, laughing. “Like any of us is lucky enough.”

Naveen nudges Anna on the elbow. “Why don’t you tell him, Anna? Break his heart. C’mon.”

Still recovering from her nerves. Anna just shakes her head. “You guys are real assholes, you know that?” And then she turns to the guy. Poor dude is literally being bullied right now, and all he wants is to ask a girl out. He’s quite brave to ask in such a direct way, she’ll give him that, but… too bad. “I’m sorry, but they’re right,” she says. “I really am not interested. I-I’m already with someone.”

“Oh,” he says.

Anna thinks he’s taking it surprisingly well. Like, he’s not breaking down in tears or anything. But that’s just a dramatic reaction that is typically seen in TV dramas. She’s got to think more realistically. “Sorry,” she says once again.

When the poor guy returns to his group, head down, Anna notes that the boys on her side are still watching him intently. She feels like a princess—some kind of important celebrity, being surrounded by bodyguards. It’s kind of embarrassing, to be honest, but it sure as hell makes her feel cool.

“Are you guys going to stop glaring at them? They already left the court.” Anna says as she zips up her jacket. It’s starting to get cold.

“It was a stare-down, Anna,” Naveen explains. “You wouldn’t get it.”

She sighs. “Uh huh, yeah. I don’t think I can ever reach the godly potential to understand your level of ingeniousness.” Taking out her phone, she feels slightly disappointed that the only messages she’s gotten are from her parents— _We’re flying! Love you!—_ an hour ago. A few more spam messages from followers she doesn’t know— _delete, delete_. And none from… _yeah._

She’s probably still busy. No biggie.

“Hey, Anna, wanna join us? We’re gonna get some food.” One of the boys—she’s too distracted to know—asks.

Anna shoves her phone back into her pocket. “If you guys don’t mind me tagging along.”

“What are you talking about? We ought to treat you to a freaking buffet for helping us out!” Herc says.

“Yeah,” Naveen smirks, “So don’t hold back on us.”

She gives them an eye-roll but forces a smile, anyway.

* * *

“Freaking _McDonald’s_?” she deadpans.

“Ungrateful much,” Hans remarks without much emotion. He turns to Eric, “Get a shit ton of fries and nuggets, will you? And some honey mustard sauce as well.”

The dark-haired boy gives him a nod and heads to the counter.

Anna isn’t particularly ticked off that they’re not eating at anywhere fancy—no, she appreciates the fact that she’s being treated, but McDonald’s has never been her thing. In fact, fast food has always been a _yeesh_ for her. But. It doesn’t matter. They all stink of sweat; it’s not like they should eat anywhere fancy, anyway. “I’ll just have a few fries. I’m not that hungry,” she notes.

The guys just shrug, and then they all take out their phones, scrolling through their screens idly. Well, they all do except for Hans. Anna figures it’s because he’s the only one without a girlfriend; even Eric waiting at the counter looks to be texting.

“You fighting with Elsa?” Hans asks, his tone casual. Hell, he isn’t even looking at her. He’s just staring into space.

Anna blinks. “No… what makes you think so?”

“The fact that you’re not on your phone like the rest of these assholes.”

“Hey man,” Herc finishes up with his typing before looking up. “Gotta report to my girl what I’m doing.”

“Mhmm,” Naveen nods as he, too, taps away at his phone. “Or they’re going to start suspecting that we’re cheating on them.”

Anna grunts. “Meg and Tiana aren’t _paranoid,_ ” she says, and then she directs her words to Eric, who is approaching with a tray filled with too many orders of large fries and McNuggets. “And Ariel certainly isn’t like that, either.”

“You never know, Anna…” Hans says, once again without much emotion. It’s like he’s not even committing to his own argument. “Girls can be quite hard to read.”

“You seem to forget that I’m a girl,” she crosses her arms. “I’m telling you. It’s not hard at all. Just make us happy and everything’s good.”

“Easier said than done,” Herc groans. He picks from the stash of fries and chooses a particularly crunchy looking one. “I can never tell what Meg is thinking. One minute, she’s all smiles. The next, she won’t even talk to me! And I didn’t even do anything!” He starts stuffing more fries into his mouth. “Are you like this, Anna? Do you have these weird mood swings?”

Anna scratches at her cheek with a finger. “Uh. I don’t think so?”

“Does Elsa?” Hans cuts in. He rests an elbow on the table and leans his chin against his palm.

“I mean,” other than that time Elsa told her how she doesn’t like that her girlfriend is being checked out by strangers, which Anna argues is completely reasonable? “No. Elsa’s not—” she clears her throat. “I think I got her angry once? But the key is to talk to her to know what’s bothering her. Then the problem can be fixed. Also, Elsa’s older, so she’s a lot more tolerant than, um…”

“So, you lowkey agree that girls our age are unreasonable?”

Anna glances at Eric, raising a brow. This is starting to feel increasingly like an interrogation. So much for thinking that hanging out with guys is _‘pretty cool’._ “Do you guys think I’m unreasonable?” she questions back.

“Nah, you’re chill,” Hans responds. “Mulan as well. I think there are only a selected few who aren’t unbearable.”

“Oof, that’s kind of harsh,” Anna says. “No wonder everyone thinks you’re a dick.”

“It’s precisely why I don’t date girls our age anymore. Or younger girls, for that matter. They just don’t understand me, y’know?”

Anna makes a face at the guy. “You say it like you have experience with older women.”

There is this moment, where the entire table just _pauses._ Anna sees the boys glance at each other, as if they are communicating merely through their eyes. As such, she feels completely out of the loop.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, but,” Eric laughs, he lowers his voice. “Whatever. Hans doesn’t care at this point. But this is something that only we know—” he stops to throw a glare at the guy in question, “—jeez, dude, at least try to look guilty.”

Hans starts chuckling. “What? I can’t help it.”

“Ugh, anyway,” Eric rolls his eyes. “Hans is _that_ kind of guy. We all know that. But lately, he’s been preying on _women._ ”

“Huh?”

“As in,” Naveen leans in closer to join the conversation, whispering, “Older, _working_ women. Ones who are capable of making money and stuff.”

In that span of a second, Anna’s jaw drops, eyes bulge, and she scoots as far away as she can from Hans. “Ew!” she squeaks. “Ew, ew, ew, ew! So, like… what,” she hisses, _“MILFs?!”_

Hans just winks at her.

“Gross!”

“On the occasion,” he picks a fry and twirls it between his thumb and index finger. “I prefer college girls, though. Hardworking ones. Give me a quick fuck, pay for my dinner. If they like me enough, they get me nice things. Win-win-win. The important factor is to have no strings attached.”

Anna swears she gagged a little.

“Hey, you look at me like I’m the worst human being in the world, but it’s not like I’m playing with their feelings. They know I’m there just for the sex. I please them enough, they get me something. It’s that simple,” he explains. And then he picks up a fry to point it at everyone. “But being in a relationship like any one of you means I have to give the girl something in return. Means they’re going to start depending on me. Now, I’m not going to waste my time doing shit like that. Take what you can and book it, y’know?”

The guys just simultaneously roll their eyes.

“My god, you’re not just a fuckboy. You’re a freaking male gold digger. Wait, hold on—you’re _actually_ a male prostitute.” Anna sighs. Her thoughts wander to a certain college boy whom she had the misfortune of meeting a month back. Gaston. That’s the guy. What he has done—what he _almost_ did to Elsa is unforgivable. But to think that somebody she’s known since sixth grade—sweet, kind-hearted, charming, good-looking _Hans Westergaard_ has become like this. So much like that disgusting monster who could have hurt Elsa.

“Just living out my prime, Anna. Can’t blame me.”

It makes her wonder—what causes a person to become like this? Anna heaves another sigh, a heavier one, before turning to the boy beside her. He’s still looking all smug and proud of himself—like he’s the wisest person in the world. But Anna can’t stop thinking.

“Hans…” she starts.

“What?”

“What’s happened to you?”

He quirks a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just…” Anna shrugs. “Something must’ve happened to make you feel this way.”

“Probably got his heart broken in the past,” Naveen laughs from across the table. The rest of the boys laugh along.

Hans just scoffs, smirking. “Whatever. Laugh all you want,” he stretches, leaning back in his seat. “At least I’m free as hell. Can do whatever I want.”

“Maybe so,” she says softly.

That catches his attention. Hans continues to look at her with that risen brow, like he’s wordlessly urging her to continue.

“Hans, I just… I think that when you find someone you like—as in, somebody you really, really, _really_ like—you would think differently.”

“Well, unlike any of you, I haven’t had the misfortune of finding that _someone_ as of yet,” he says cockily.

“I guess you haven’t,” Anna responds with a shrug. She can tell that the guy is really against committing. Really against relationships—against _trust_. It’s kind of sad. She needs to soften her tone a little. “I can’t say too much about this since I’m in my first relationship, but I quite like it,” she confesses with a smile. “I mean, it’s never about giving something to her, nor is it about getting something in return. When you’re with the person you like, you’re just in a state of mind where you want her to be happy. It’s simple. And, as long as she is,” her smile widens into a huge grin, “… so are you.”

Hans blinks once. Then twice. Anna can’t exactly read expressions, but does he look lost or confused or… maybe kind of both? Yeah, no. It’s probably confusion. He’s a smart guy; gets good grades, but what Anna just said is probably dumb as hell—

“Why would you depend on someone when you can do things yourself?” he asks. His voice comes out so softly that the question is a mumble. As if it lacks confidence.

She takes a moment. A genuine question from the rarely-genuine _fuckboy_. He looks so curious, so in need of an answer. Anna goes with her gut feeling, “Because it feels nice to,” she says, pausing to recall those tiny, precious moments.

When she took care of Elsa that morning she woke up feeling sick after the Christmas Eve party; when Elsa reached for her hand, hoping to find some way to calm her nerves down before meeting Anna’s parents; when Elsa held her so tightly that day she witnessed the accident, that same night she cried in Anna’s embrace, and all those times when Elsa simply leans on her—

“It feels even nicer when they depend on you,” Anna finishes. “It’s… I don’t know. Nice. Makes you feel appreciated.”

“Like…” Herc chimes in with a quiet voice. It’s almost as though he’s talking to himself. “… Like you’re doing something right, and it’s being acknowledged.”

“I think it’s more like a confidence booster,” Eric says.

“Makes you feel important. It is pretty _nice_ ,” Naveen says.

“Yeah, exactly.” Anna nods.

All eyes are on Hans, and the guy’s expression doesn’t change. He still looks like he doesn’t care about anything, but Anna does spot a hint of a difference. At the very least, he doesn’t appear so smug anymore. And that’s probably enough.

“Hm,” he finally starts, bearing another smirk. “Sure,” he says, waving a nonchalant hand at them. “When I’m older, I’ll trap myself in this ‘relationship’ thing.”

She chuckles. “Okay,” Anna understands that he just doesn’t like to admit defeat. But she’s certain that the words have reached him. “I hope that when you find this person, you will remember that I gave you the greatest advice ever.”

“Uh huh. Then I’ll invite you to my wedding and have you be one of my groomsmen. Woman. Whatever.” He jokes.

“Yo, that’s actually going to be so fun, having a female as one of your groomsmen.” Herc says, a bit too enthusiastically, might Anna add.

“Dude, can you hire a stripper and have her grind on Anna? I’d pay to see that,” Naveen, just as well, is so excited about this hypothetical situation that he starts pounding on the table.

“Wait, it’s going to be my wedding. Don’t we usually have the stripper grind on me?”

“What the hell, man,” Eric laughs. “You haven’t even gotten yourself a girlfriend and you’re thinking about marriage?”

“You guys started it!”

The group breaks into a loud laughter, getting the attention of several people sitting close by. They must be judging them— _stupid high school kids_ and such. But Anna doesn’t care. The guys don’t care, either, of course. They’re just here to have fun.

Hanging out with boys is pretty cool, after all.

“Wait, wait, hold up—” Herc takes out his phone. He taps it a few times to open something, and it is only when he holds it up in the air does Anna see that he’s preparing for a selfie.

Wow.

She wouldn’t take Herc to be the camwhore-type of guy.

“Seriously?” Eric speaks for Anna.

“Yeah, dude. Do you realize how monumental this is? We’re hanging out with freaking Anna Eriksen!”

“Shut up,” Anna laughs.

“Alright, here we go, three… two… one…”

From the tiny screen, Anna sees Hans holding up two fingers behind her head, so she acts accordingly, lifting her fist to make it seem like she’s giving him a pretend-uppercut.

_Snap_

“Yes! Sweet!” Herc squeals— _yes,_ he actually made a noise that is rather high-pitched for someone his demeanour. 

“Remember to tag us.” Naveen tells him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods, once again focusing far too much on his screen. “Okay, let’s see. _Hashtag: got-to-hang-out-with-Anna-Eriksen…_ ”

It’s around this time when her phone finally vibrates. “Oh, sorry, guys,” she stands from her seat, “gotta take this call.”

They give her a simple nod and go on about their conversation. She finds an empty table and sits down again before picking up the call. Anna doesn’t even need to see the name to know who it is.

“Hello?” she answers, a natural smile forming on her lips.

_“Anna? I—I’m so sorry, I was busy the entire day. I just finished one of my group meetings. I had to cancel all of my tutoring sessions, and—oh, I… I’m sorry I didn’t call to see if you’re okay. Your parents even told me to take care of you—”_

“Elsa, Elsa…” Anna cuts her off softly. “I’m okay,” she leans back in her seat. “Big girl, remember?”

A sigh of relief comes from the other side of the phone. _“Yes, you are,”_ and then a giggle. _“And yes, I’ll stop worrying—you don’t have to remind me.”_

“Good,” Anna giggles.

There is a fine line between being overly-reliant and insecure in a relationship, and Anna thinks that she has somehow blended the two extremes together—packaging all the negativity that exists into one, tiny, transparent plastic box. Her mind decorates it with pretty wrapping papers, ties it up with a neat little bow. It appears presentable, _believable._ And this is why Anna as a person, so in need to grow up, so desperate to catch up to Elsa, has fallen for the illusion.

She may never be good enough for Elsa, but for now, she’ll work hard to try. Everything she’s told Hans—she will commit to it. Work for it.

Because she doesn’t want to let this go.

_“Anna?”_

“Yes?” She answers. “What’s wrong?”

 _“… nothing,”_ Elsa speaks softly. _“I just. I wanted to hear your voice a little bit more.”_

Anna’s heart flutters. _Butterflies._ They fly all over her. Stomach, heart, head, her throat— _ah, god,_ she wants to cry.

“In that case,” her voice shakes; whether it is from happiness, nervousness, or perhaps being too overwhelmed by everything that is _Elsa,_ Anna would still argue that this is a feeling to die for. “Do you want to do something together tonight? I got plenty of groceries in the fridge—my mom’s stocked up a ton. Maybe I can cook you something?”

_“Mmn… just cooking?”_

She smiles so wide, her lips feel like they’re about to crack. “I can… give you a massage?”

_“A-Anna! That’s not what I was… ugh!”_

“I’m kidding!” laughter bubbles warmly in her chest. She can practically picture Elsa blushing when she stutters like that. The stupid grin on her own face would not go away, either. Anna also sees at the corner of her eyes that the guys are harsh judging her (in a joking manner, of course), but she pays them no mind. Instead, she refocuses, dragging her attention back to the girl on the other side of the phone. “… Elsa?”

_“Hm?”_

Her soft hum makes her smile again. The warmth in her chest spreads farther—wider, to every nerve-ending in her body. The tips of her fingers, her earlobes, her lips. It’s a joyous sensation; it’s happiness personified. It makes her so soft, calm, _tender_ —like melted chocolate.

At this point, anyone can tell that she’s hopelessly in love.

And she wants to tell her.

So, so, so, so, so, _sooooo_ much.

“I’ll meet you back at home. I was out playing basketball with the guys. Wait till I tell you how well I did.”

 _“Okay,”_ Elsa says. Her smile can literally be _heard. “I’ll… see you in a bit?”_

“Yeah. See you soon. I…”

_“Yes?”_

Anna bites at her lip. “Nothing. Never mind. I’ll be home soon.”

_“O-okay.”_

She waits for Elsa to hang up on her end. The line cuts, and Anna wants more than anything to punch herself.

God. Why couldn’t she just say it?

 _Whatever._ She’ll drop the subject for now. She can deal with this later.

When she returns to the boys, they’re either talking about group selfie, or that made-up-but-soon-to-be wedding for Hans. How they’re going to have Anna wear a tux, how they’re going to pull a prank on Hans by hiring a male stripper instead while Anna gets all the girls—it doesn’t matter. They’re just in their own fantasy and Anna finds it hilarious that they can drag on a single joke for this long.

“Alright, you guys do you,” she interrupts them. “I’m going home.”

“Aw, you’re not gonna stay longer? We’re about to head over to Herc’s to play some Smash.” Eric says.

Herc nods eagerly. “I got a really cool set up in my basement. You should come, Anna!”

She shakes her head and checks the time. It’s already close to five in the evening since the sky’s darkened. “Nope. Thank you, though.” Anna says. “Maybe next time. I’m meeting up with Elsa. Maybe you guys can invite the girls? Don’t want them to think that you guys are cheating on them with… well, _each other._ I mean, except for you, Hans. Not you. No offense.”

“None taken.” He raises his hands. “I do not wish to partake in said homoerotic orgy.”

“Shut up, man,” Naveen punches him on the arm, hard. “It’s a guy’s night out, Anna. It’d be cool if you could join us.”

“Oh,” she rests her hands on her hips. “So, I’m a guy to you?”

“N-no! Of course, not!” Naveen tries to correct himself. “Well, I mean—you’re easier to talk to than the rest of the girls. Especially if we’re talking about your clique of friends—”

“I’m just kidding,” Anna laughs, stopping his ramble. “It’s fine. I’ve been told that I act more like a boy than anything since I was a kid.”

“Which explains why even the girls are attracted to you,” Eric says. “Seriously. After you posted that picture of you and Elsa? _Damn._ I help coach the freshmen soccer teams—guys and girls—and, Jesus, Anna. They just would not shut up about you. They think you’re a model or something.”

She slaps her palm against her face. “God damn it. That was supposed to drive people away. Not do the opposite…”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “It certainly did not help. You’ve earned yourself a league of fan boys and girls thanks to that picture.”

“I’ve already put my account on private!”

“People can screenshot the picture and circulate it around, hello? Just be glad it’s not on Reddit. It’s a matter of time, though.” Eric says.

“How many candy-grams do you think you’ll be getting on Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh shit, that thing’s this Thursday, isn’t it? God, I have to think of something for Tiana…”

“Just get flowers.”

“Chocolate is easier.”

It doesn’t matter what they’re saying, because Anna’s already lost track of who’s talking. She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to figure out her set of worries. She certainly hopes what Eric said isn’t true. The last thing she wants is more stalkers. To this date, she’s still deleting people off her list. To this date, she’s _still_ getting new, random people requesting to follow her—all of whom she’s rejected, obviously.

On top of this, she’s totally forgotten about _Valentine’s Day…!_

“You look like shit, Anna,” Eric’s voice breaks her train of thoughts.

“Uh huh,” she answers weakly. “God. I totally did not realize that it’s February. That the freaking _fourteenth_ is in four freaking days. I’m so stupid.”

“Ah, I see that this is your first-ever-nightmare that is Valentine’s Day.”

She can practically hear Naveen smirking, but she nods, because she’s _that_ helpless. “I… literally have no idea what to do.”

“Anna, you’re surrounded by the best-looking guys in our grade, three of whom have girlfriends, one of whom is, like you said, a male prostitute. The least you can do is give us a bit of respect and ask us for help,” Hans states—a bit too proudly. He’s fully embracing that title at this point. Jeez, this guy.

He isn’t wrong about the boys being the best-looking ones in the grade, though. Anna understands the hierarchy system at school well enough, even though she doesn’t care. And these four are well on the top. So… asking them for advice isn’t totally crazy, right?

“Okay, guys. I’m… I want to trust you on this. But I really have to go right now.”

“Don’t worry, Anna,” Herc grins. “We can talk at school tomorrow.”

“Not like we’re suddenly gonna ditch you over this crucial matter,” Naveen adds.

“Careful on your way.” Eric waves her goodbye.

“Text us when you’re home,” Hans says. “We’ve added you to our group chat.”

_Aw._

She can’t but to smile a little, despite that headache. Anna checks her phone, and she actually giggles a little when she sees the name of the chat: _Madam Anna & BoYzZzZ. _The icon is the selfie that Herc took, which Anna thinks is actually pretty cute. She gives them a final wave and heads out, pulling up her hood to shield herself from the cold, as much as possible. The sky is dark, she can see her breath, and her fingers are ice-cold. It’s best if she moved faster to keep warm.

When she meets up with Elsa later, she’s going to have to keep it a secret that she’s planning something—not that it’s going to be hard. She hasn’t planned anything as of yet, but… but _still!_

She wasn’t able to give Elsa a proper birthday or Christmas. New Year’s was nice, but it wasn’t _superb._

That’s it.

Anna will give Elsa the best Valentine’s gift, ever.

And then maybe… _maybe_ she can tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/17 pages on the irredeemable monster and 2/17 pages on Elsa. No hate please!!!
> 
> On another note, at least we all know what's coming up next. Spoiler alert: it will be the longest chapter because...... reasons
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“… And we have _three more_ Valentine’s grams for Anna Eriksen! Oh, two of them are read-aloud!”

Anna ducks lower in her seat, practically burying her face in her arms to look as small as possible and to just hide herself from all this embarrassment.

Herc, who so happens to be part of student council, is one of the volunteers to be handing out candy grams on this special day. The enthusiasm, the _zeal_ that was heard in his delivery in the first few periods has long died down, and anyone can tell that he is getting tired of reading all these cheesy messages.

 _“_ Okay, here’s the first one,” he clears his throat. “ _Dear Anna, you are someone I aspire to be. Every time I pass by you in the hallway, my heart f—”_ the boy has to hold back a giggle, though a few people in the classroom don’t have the same restraint. Soft laughter resounds in the room before he continues, _“—f-flutters. You are so beautiful, so charismatic, and ever so kind. Please accept these candies as a form of my respect for you. With love, from an Anonymous Admirer.”_

“Oooh!”

“Now, for the second one…” Herc takes a deep breath. _“Dearest Anna Eriksen, you are probably the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. You have no idea how s—”_ he stops, actually shutting his mouth tightly. Herc glances at Weasel Town awkwardly. “… um.”

The math teacher quirks a brow. “Do not mind me,” he waves his hand. “Get on with it.”

Herc visibly swallows, he shoots Anna an apologetic look. The lump in his throat bobs. “Erm, uh. _Y-you have no idea how… sexy you are. Literally. You are a goddess, and I would gladly let you ride my—_ ” he stops again, this time looking straight up. “Alright. We are not permitted to get weird here, so you’re going to have to read the rest yourself, Anna.”

“Noooo, what?!”

“Boo!”

“What the hell, man! Finish the rest!”

For what it’s worth, even though she’s only just gotten tight with the guy four days ago, Herc has been a true bro. All day, for three periods, he’s been doing this Valentine’s gram thing, and every single time, he is coincidentally tasked to deliver to Anna’s classes. Maybe he set this up considering his position in the council? Anyway, so far, Herc has read at least seven messages out loud just for the redhead. Anna knows for a fact that if it were any other person, no matter how inappropriate, they would undoubtedly go through the whole thing. It’s a tradition, really, to embarrass the receiver. But thank the _Gods of Mount Olympus_ for Hercules. The guy would simply refuse to read the message if it had any inappropriate content in it. Honestly, if it were Hans, Naveen, or maybe even Eric, they would read on. Good thing they’re not in student council.

“Alright, that’s enough of this nonsense,” Weasel Town grumbles, urging Herc and his ensemble of volunteers to get out of the room. 

Anna retrieves the grams from Herc and stuffs them haphazardly into her backpack, thanking him in a quiet mumble before he exits.

“Quite the popular one, aren’t you, Eriksen?”

She sits up. “Um, no. Just…” Anna can’t finish, because Weasel Town’s already turned around, scribbling more notes on the board.

Man.

It kind of hurts her feelings that he doesn’t want to hear her explanation. Not that she has one. Actually, what does she want to explain, anyway?

“Pretty sure you’re going to get cavities,” Rapunzel whispers to her.

Anna glares. Her friend is, as usual, being all diligent, taking notes and stuff. “I’ll give you all of them if you want. These candies are horrible. No flavourings at all—nothing but sugar,” she whispers back.

The golden-blonde chuckles. “No, thank you,” she pauses, taking out a few candies of her own from the pocket of her dress. “I got a fair share of my own.”

Anna grunts. She seems to have forgotten that Rapunzel is quite popular as well, except her standards are ultra-high and she tends to reject everyone who shows even the slightest interest in her. For her friend’s sake, Anna hopes that one of these days, Rapunzel will lower her standards a little so that she can at least get a chance to date. She’s a sweetheart and everything. Totally deserves love.

She fishes her phone out of her pocket and starts scrolling away at the screen. It has become somewhat of a regular routine to go on Instagram to reject all follow requests and, simultaneously, delete weird messages from unknown followers. She would also take this opportunity to remove these idiots who have sent her said weird messages. Killing two birds with one stone and all. So far, she’s down to eight-hundred followers, meaning she’s still got a long way to go.

Weasel Town spurs on about the applications of the chain rule, which Anna already knows because she and Elsa have covered this way back in December (as in, before they got together), so she finds a way to distract herself.

She starts scrolling through the chat log of _Madam Anna & BoYzZzZ, _reading through all the notes that the guys have given her for this specific date. Anna just hopes that everything will go as planned, because she worked hard on this, _damn it._

She even dressed up nicely today. As mentioned, she loves wearing nice things, but she is quite nervous to have Elsa see her all feminine. She’s usually in bomber jackets and leggings and whatnot.

_Bzz bzz_

The sudden vibration nearly makes Anna drop her phone; she scrambles to keep it in her grip and, in the process, makes Rapunzel glare at her.

 _“Sorry,”_ she mouths.

Anna turns her attention back to her screen underneath the desk. The only reason she freaked out like that can only mean one thing—the message came from Elsa. In this short timeframe, the world has shifted; Anna’s mood lifts, and all things negative known to mankind has been flipped around. Sugars and rainbows have graced the planet with their beauty, letting all living things bask in harmony, incarnate.

In other words, a natural smile finds its way on Anna’s features.

_‘My professor’s dragging on the workshop… I hope I can make it to come pick you up after school.’_

Elsa rarely complains, this must be a big deal. She taps away on her keyboard. _‘Relax! I still have English after this.’_

A _typing_ speech bubble appears, and then comes Elsa’s reply, _‘Still… I don’t want to keep you waiting.’_

_‘Aren’t you a gentleman ;)’_

_‘… I just want everything to be perfect for you.’_

_Ughhh this girl…!_

Anna can honestly just start bawling in the middle of class. God. _Elsa._ She’s— _ugh!_

 _‘You’re being stupidly sweet,’_ Anna types, her eyes turning hot as she struggles to breathe evenly. _‘You’re going to give me diabetes faster than all these grams I got.’_

 _‘Valentine’s candy grams?’_ Elsa responds. _‘They still do that? Are the candies still too sweet and sticky?’_

_‘OMG yes! They’re so gross. And the messages that came with them. Eghhh. Puke.’_

There is a distinct pause. Anna is slightly scared that she’s said something wrong, but she reminds herself that she’s got to stop being paranoid (as per the guys’ advice), and sure enough, Elsa starts typing again.

_‘I hope they aren’t disturbing… I used to get some really creepy messages. The student council really has to regulate the system better…’_

_Huh._ Didn’t Elsa say that she used to just hang around the library? Wait, that was a dumb question. Elsa’s gorgeous; it wouldn’t matter even if she hid in the boy’s washrooms; she would still get admirers. Still, Anna doesn’t want to pry. _‘You are so right about that. More importantly, I wish they’d change these sugary candies to chocolate instead :(‘_

_‘Everything about you is chocolate, isn’t it?’_

Anna bites at her lower lip to contain a giggle. _‘You know me!’_

“Okay, class, take out a piece of paper,” Weasel Town suddenly announces as he turns around. “I will write down a few questions on the board. Answer them within fifteen minutes. This is a pop quiz, if I am not being clear.”

The entire class break into a heavy groan. Anna heaves a sigh. Rapunzel’s already ahead of everyone and has her desk cleared except for the needed stationery.

She types quickly, _‘Alright, Elsa. Weasel Town is giving us a pop quiz. I’ll ttyl?’_

 _‘Okay,’_ Elsa responds. _‘Good luck. See you soon.’_

Anna stuffs her phone back in her pocket and grabs a sheet of paper out of her binder. She spots Rapunzel shaking her head at her like she’s judging, and Anna doesn’t know the reason for this until she feels a bit of numbness on her cheeks.

Wow, she’s smiling a bit too wide.

* * *

Finally, after receiving the last of those horrid _grams-slash-messages_ in her last period, where Ms. Tremaine literally kicked Herc and his volunteers out for even attempting to read something being borderline-inappropriate, classes are over. Being the nice person that she is, no matter how much she dislikes these candies, Anna can’t bring herself to toss them in the trashcan. Maybe she can bring them home and throw them away there, but for now, she’s just going to keep them. Don’t want to be _too_ mean.

“So what are your plans for today?” Rapunzel asks as they make their way towards their lockers.

The hallways are decorated with red, pink, white cut-out hearts, dangling from the ceiling lights. Several people by their lockers are holding bouquets of flowers, and is it just Anna, or are people dressed more extravagantly than usual? Well, she knows that she has a date after school, so she’s obviously done so for the occasion. But this really is the first time she’s noticed the shift in atmosphere on Valentine’s Day. Perhaps it’s because in the past, she’s never cared much for relationships?

“I’m gonna go catch a movie with Elsa before dinner,” Anna says. “You?”

Rapunzel shrugs. “Violin lessons. My exam is coming up in a few weeks, so my parents are pushing me for extra sessions.”

“Ah,” Anna nods.

Rapunzel’s family is all about aiming high; while that alone may sound intimidating to the average outsider, it is no challenge to the golden blonde in question, for it is in her personality to accept nothing below perfection in itself. The two simultaneously wave to and greet some of their friends they pass by in the hallways, and Anna notes that even though her reputation has been shooting through the roof lately, Rapunzel is getting some attention as well. Not that it bothers her. Actually, this may even be a good thing because then they can balance out the attention, right?

“Did the boys manage to give you any tips?” Rapunzel suddenly starts.

“Not really.” She frowns. “It started with… _sex positions,_ of all things. When I got serious and asked for real ideas, they told me a bunch of cliched, overused, corny tips. I mean, I’m sure they work in their own way, but. Just. I don’t know. I picked out the best of the best. Hope it’ll work out.”

Rapunzel giggles— _yes,_ her best friend actually finds this amusing. “Honestly, Anna. I don’t know what you’d expect when you’re asking for advice from Hans Westergaard.”

“It wasn’t just him! I knew not to listen to him, but I had some faith in Eric and the other two!” Anna says, flailing her arms around like an angry child. “I thought that since they have experience in relationships, they could teach me how to make Elsa happy on a deeper, more intrinsic sort of way, y’know? Not by making her—” she quiets down, making sure to not finish that sentence. Instead, she just clears her throat. “I-I mean. It… it doesn’t matter. I’ve figured something out on my own, already.”

“Hm,” Rapunzel hums. “Don’t overthink it, Anna. Elsa doesn’t seem like a superficial person; I think she’ll be happy as long as you’re around her.”

… and _that._

That reminds her playful, teasing Rapunzel—the girl who created that stupid _HAUWE_ group chat—is actually very, _very_ perceptive. Simultaneously, it wakes Anna up a little about how foolish she has been.

And suddenly, she feels like running home to remove what she’s prepared—

“Anna,” Rapunzel calls to her softly.

She looks up, realizing now that she’s stopped her tracks.

The golden blonde gives her a wide smile. Without saying another word, she gestures down the hallway, towards the direction of where their lockers are.

Slowly, as if some part of her brain is preparing her for what’s to come, Anna’s gaze moves towards where her friend is pointing.

The people in the hallway are murmuring, speaking in hushed tones. Anna can barely make out what they are saying. Their judging, their gossips, their envy, their admiration. It’s like an invisible bubble has wrapped Anna up protectively, shielding her from all things unimportant, highlighting what _is._ It even has the power to separate Anna from both time and space, and perhaps even gravity, because she sees everything in slow motion—like she has tunnel vision; like she’s wearing the best noise-cancelling earphones; like she’s floating in midair without the pull of gravity to weigh her down.

Such an otherworldly experience has only ever occurred to her when she first laid eyes on Elsa.

It can only be experienced when Elsa is involved.

“Come on, Anna. Don’t keep her waiting,” Rapunzel whispers, nudging her on the shoulder.

Anna nods. But she isn’t responding to Rapunzel’s words—she’s more so reacting, if that makes any sense. She steps forward.

_Breathe._

Is she making sense?

Another step.

_Her heart pounds._

But why does making sense matter if all she can see is Elsa, at this point?

One more.

_Blood rushes to her head._

“Hi.” Elsa says in a meek voice.

Anna comes close. As close as she can, considering the huge bouquet of roses that the blonde is holding in her hands. She does a quick count and estimates that there are about forty roses, surrounded by baby’s-breath and held neatly in a pale pink wrapping paper. Anna looks deep into Elsa’s bright blue eyes, and then she speaks up, as confidently as she can, “Hi, you.”

A pretty dusting of pink spreads over Elsa’s cheeks.

Anna finds the need to hold onto something, like she needs to touch something solid to remind herself that she is alive. Present. Living this moment. She wrings her fingers from behind, fiddling with them as she continues, “You’re really pretty today.”

The pinkish hue deepens. If it isn’t obvious enough, Elsa’s nerves are showing. The bouquet is held higher, just as she raises her shoulders up to her ears, and Anna can only see half of the blonde’s face. “And y-you’re…” Elsa starts, her voice barely projecting, “… wearing a dress.”

 _Well,_ Anna half nods, half shrugs. “Technically,” she comes even closer. Elsa is practically backed up against the lockers, “This is a skirt,” she says quietly, so that only her girlfriend would hear. “Do you like it?”

Takes a moment, but Elsa nods. Eagerly so. “You need to dress like this more often.”

“And give you a head rush?”

“N-no…” Elsa whispers, shirking away.

 _God,_ it looks like Elsa is about to explode or something. Look at how red she is! Almost as red as the roses in her hands. “So your professor didn’t end up dragging on that workshop?”

Elsa shakes her head lightly. “He did,” she responds. “I just left early.”

Anna blinks, but the smile is permanent. “Once upon a time, a certain someone lectured me for a good half an hour for skipping class to celebrate her birthday with her…”

“This is different,” Elsa grumbles. _Ugh,_ she’s so freaking cute when she acts all childish like this. “I-I figured… since our photo didn’t work,” she hands Anna the bouquet, “Letting them see us together…”

Anna takes the flowers.

“… _would?”_

 _Ah—_ she can’t. Anna really, _really_ can’t. She wants to laugh and cry and scream. Who would have thought that receiving flowers for the very first time in her life would get her this emotional? Who would have thought that her receiving messages from strangers bothers Elsa this much? Who would have thought that Elsa would go way out of her comfort zone to do something like this? For _Anna_?

It’s all Elsa’s fault, _that girl_. Jeez. Everything she does just impacts Anna on an astronomical scale. Elsa’s speech, Elsa’s tone, Elsa’s gaze, Elsa’s smile, Elsa’s tears—Anna is so, so, _so_ in love.

She hugs the flowers in her arms, even though common sense is screaming at her not to.

“Careful, I… I’m sure there are no thorns, but still—”

“Elsa,” Anna interrupts.

“… Yes?”

Her smile widens even more. Anna cradles the flowers in one hand, and with her other, she pulls the blonde close by the waist. Hips attached, Anna does something that she herself is unaware she is capable of doing—

“Anna—”

Elsa can’t finish.

Anna kisses her, ignoring and abandoning all sense and logic relating to PDA and how the action supposedly bothers her. She doesn’t care. She literally can’t _give a shit._ The need to kiss this girl outweighs the need to do anything else, and this includes breathing. It’s so exhilarating to know that Elsa feels the same, because when the blonde wraps her arms around Anna’s neck, when she kisses back gently, she feels her smile. The innocence emitting from this kiss reminds Anna of why she finds Elsa so adorable, and the mere thought of it just makes the redhead want to kiss her more.

In her peripherals, she sees everyone watching her. If she cared at all, this would be beyond embarrassing. Pretty much everyone has their camera out—are they putting this on their Instagram and Snapchat stories? And, at the same time, somewhere in the background, Anna hears _oooh’s_ and cheers and definitely someone shouting, _“MAKE BABIES! MAKE BABIES!”_ Her gut feeling tells her that it’s Hans, to which she mentally rolls her eyes.

But, in all honesty, she should stop. Don’t want to make Elsa uncomfortable. If Anna can see what’s happening, so can Elsa. The girl’s probably exerting all of her courage to do something this daring. Anna is a hundred percent sure that Elsa is pushing herself to do this. Reluctantly, Anna pulls away to meet eyes with the blonde.

Beautiful, twinkling, half-lidded cerulean orbs piercing right through her.

On instinct, Anna licks her lips. While Elsa gasps softly to such a _scandalous_ act, Anna takes note that the blonde is using watermelon-flavoured lip gloss. _Mmm,_ how nice would it be to taste more?

“Anna…?” Elsa interrupts her trance.

She leans forward, bumping their foreheads together. “I know,” Anna whispers. “That was unnecessary, but can I help it?”

The blonde pouts.

Anna gives her a feigned look of disdain. “See, you’re doing it again. You’re being irresistible again.”

“O-oh,” Elsa blinks, _actually_ looking all guilty. “Sorry.”

“Aaand _again._ ”

Elsa’s lower lip puckers up even more.

This time, Anna just giggles. She tiptoes to peck the girl’s forehead before releasing Elsa to take a step back, glancing triumphantly (and arrogantly, might she add) at everyone surrounding them.

“Alright, nothing to see here. Get back to your businesses, people,” comes, sure enough, _Hans’_ voice. Anna sees him standing amongst the crowd. So it really was him earlier. What a guy.

A series of _aww’s_ and _boo’s_ and some _shut up, Hans_ sound in the hallway, but then the crowd actually disperses. How weird.

“It’s safe to say that you have become quite the celebrity, Anna,” Rapunzel says as she approaches. “Hello, Elsa.”

The blonde gives her a shy smile. “H-hello.”

“Didn’t you know, Punzie?” Hans emerges, resting an arm over Rapunzel’s shoulder. “Anna is the official darling of Arendelle High School. Her love life is the most important thing in the school. It’s all everyone ever talks about.”

Rapunzel rolls her eyes and swats his arm off. “First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all…” she pauses. “Actually, second of all, he’s right. I have nothing to add.”

Funny how just a few days ago, Anna thought that this topic was absurd. Now, all she knows now is that her and Elsa’s relationship is established. Maybe now, people would stop bothering her? There may still be requests, but hopefully, those weird messages would stop coming. _Maybe._

“I mean, high school’s all about gossips, anyway, isn’t it?” Anna says, smiling as she turns to Elsa. “It’ll die down in a bit. Next thing you know, people are going to be gossiping about the two of you going out.”

“What?!”

“Ew, _him?_ Gross!”

Anna laughs. “I’m kidding. The male prostitute and the perfectionist getting together? Nah.”

Hans and Rapunzel stare at each other in disgust, only to widen the gap between them in that single instance.

When Hans recovers, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Alright, whatever. You and your sick joke,” he growls. “I’m outta here. Have fun tonight,” Hans smirks to the couple, emphasizing on _tonight._ And then he makes his way down the hallway, disappearing once again into the crowd.

Rapunzel is next to speak up. “That was not funny, Anna,” she complains. “Anybody but him!”

Anna shrugs. “Eh, he’s okay. Probably not the best choice now, but give him a couple years. When he stops playing around, I think he has the capacity to be a good boyfriend.”

“How about you mind your relationship, and I’ll handle my own, hmm?” Rapunzel forces a laugh—like she’s trying to sound annoyed, but her natural, cheery tone just makes her sound friendly no matter what she does.

“Okay, okay,” Anna says. “I’ll leave you alone. Pack up and get going already! Don’t you have your violin lessons?”

“Oh, shoot,” Rapunzel grabs her phone, presumably to check the time. “Ahh—I’m gonna be late,” she scrambles to open her locker beside Anna’s, stuffing a few textbooks into her bag. “Okay, I have to run. Bye guys! Do have fun on your date!” she finishes with a wink.

When she, too, disappears into the far end of the hallway, Anna grabs Elsa’s hand. “That was a bit overwhelming, wasn’t it?”

“Just a bit.” Elsa responds softly.

Anna sees the slight discomfort in the girl. Carefully, as if handling an art piece that can shatter easily, she brings Elsa’s hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it gently. “Elsa?”

The girl blinks.

Anna’s smile reaches her eyes. “Thank you for coming. It makes me so happy that you’re here.”

Hearing that, Elsa finally softens up as she, too, breaks into a tender smile. “Should we get going?” Elsa asks. “We have a movie to catch.”

“Mhmm,” Anna hugs the bouquet a bit closer. “I’m all ready to go!”

* * *

Perhaps it’s what she’s wearing. Maybe it’s even the way she’s speaking, but Anna finds Elsa to be a bit more open today. Like… the fact that she was willing to kiss for that long in public? On the several occasions that they have gone on dates together to the mall and such, Elsa would melt into a pile of goo if Anna so much as pecks her on the cheek. That time they went ice-skating on New Year’s Eve? Yeah, Elsa was so hesitant. It’s almost as though she is afraid people are watching. Like she _doesn’t_ want people to watch.

So, what happened at school today was a huge leap.

At the movies as well, Elsa is being a bit more affectionate than usual. Elsa is the one to lean on Anna’s shoulder today, Elsa’s the one to initiate the hand-holding throughout the movie, and Elsa’s the one to constantly turn her head to nuzzle in Anna’s neck. When Anna inadvertently turns to kiss the top of the blonde’s head, the latter would giggle before snuggling even closer.

It… it’s _so_ _freaking adorable._

But then come dinner, at the place that they’ve booked—Japanese cuisine (because Anna has always wanted to see Elsa struggle with chopsticks; turns out the girl is a master at it, so that was pointless)—Elsa is… _hmm,_ a bit stiffer than usual?

Sure, she’s always careful, polite, and delicate with her actions, but right now, Elsa’s sitting so straight, like her back is against a board. She would fidget on her cushion (they got one of those private seating areas that require them to take off their shoes), and occasionally, she would look like she’s in pain. Does it hurt her to kneel like this? Maybe they should have gotten those normal seats after all. Or is Anna thinking too much?

“The wasabi…” Elsa explains when Anna asks, “I think I’ve put too much…”

Which isn’t that believable, because they’ve had spicier food, and Anna knows that Elsa can take quite a bit of tabasco on the oysters they’ve had a few weeks back. In fact, they’ve even tried that stupid _fire-noodles_ challenge. It was Anna’s idea; she picked up a pack at the supermarket, brought it to Elsa’s dorm, and the two made a portion to share. Anna tapped out almost instantly after slurping down one strand, whereas Elsa finished the rest without breaking a sweat.

Hell, Elsa _never_ sweats.

Well, whatever. She’s still cute as hell, no matter what she does.

Their conversation drifts towards some uninteresting topics, but Anna cherishes these moments. She listens intently as Elsa tells Anna that she’s had practice with chopsticks after one time her parents returned from a performance in Shanghai. How they promised that the next time they visit Asia, they would take Elsa along, but in order for that to happen, she needs to learn how to use the utensils properly. And so, Elsa practiced and practiced, because she wanted so much to travel with her parents and attend their overseas performances.

“Their next performance was Japan, and I was going to go with them, you see,” Elsa says. “But then… y’know.”

Anna’s voice is caught in her throat. “I-I’m sorry—”

“No!” Elsa shakes her head. “Please, don’t be. Anna, I’m fine. I’m telling you this because, well…”

She squeezes the blonde’s hand, encouraging her to continue.

“… I know how you’re upset that your parents have gone on a vacation without you.”

Anna chuckles. “Upset is an understatement,” she says. “But I’m okay. I have you with me here, don’t I?”

Elsa smiles, breathing out in contentment. “You do. But… I was thinking that maybe, um. When summer comes, we can actually go travel together.”

Her eyes light up. Anna leans in close, “Planning our honeymoon already?”

It was a joke. It was most certainly just a joke, and Anna was quite confident that Elsa was going to chastise her for saying something like that, but what does she do instead?

Elsa laughs. A rich, beautiful sound. “Would… would you want to go?” she asks with a soft, uncertain tone. “With me?”

She melts. Just. _Ugh._ Anna resists the urge to hold onto her chest. God, her heart. It’s straining so hard. “Mhmm,” she manages a single nod. What she really wants to do is to tell Elsa that she’d follow her to the ends of the earth. That she would run into a pit full of hungry wolves, or she would jump into the crater of an active volcano, and she would travel outer space without any sort of protection—so long as Elsa is there.

… _but._ That’s a bit too cheesy. Gotta hold herself back. Stop being weird and all.

“Time to save up!” she says instead. “Oh, and we have to go camping together, too.”

Elsa’s smile becomes wider, her cheeks a tad pinker. She picks up her chopsticks and goes on with the meal, placing a fair amount of wasabi on top of her piece of toro nigiri before dipping a bit of it into soy sauce. Anna herself struggles to keep her eyes off the blonde, but it brings her so much joy that their hands are still joined.

And the fact that Elsa’s actually using her right hand to hold the chopsticks.

* * *

There is an unspoken silence that surrounds the two after dinner. The moment they step out of the restaurant, an awkward atmosphere hang above them. Save for the part where Anna brings up how good the food was, the car ride is quiet—not a single word uttered between the two. Elsa’s hands at the steering wheel are as stiff as her posture, and Anna wants more than anything to reach over and hold her hand, but she can’t bring herself to do it. It’s just… it’s so freaking awkward.

Because they both know what’s to come.

Nobody in the house. Just the two of them. Valentine’s freaking Day. What else can possibly happen?

Elsa pulls up to the driveway, putting the car on park but doesn’t turn off the engine. Anna notices this and musters up her courage to speak up. It’s tonight. It has to be tonight.

“Do you… want to come in?”

Elsa swallows. Anna can actually hear it. “Would that be okay?”

 _Alright._ Have to be more direct about this. “Y-yeah. We can, uh. Spend a bit more time together before you head back up to the mountain?”

“Yes, I—” Elsa wavers. “… I have class early tomorrow, so I shouldn’t stay too long.”

Right. That business elective course she’s taking with Eugene. If Anna remembers correctly, that class starts at nine, so Elsa kind of can’t stay over. Still. She wants her to come in. Just for a bit.

Okay.

_Just ask normally!_

“I-it won’t take long—”

Elsa squeaks to her response.

Anna realizes what she’s said. “I-I mean…!” she tries again, “I… um.”

Another moment of silence. Anna can feel her palms getting sweaty. God, and her mouth is so dry. It’s so annoying how weird things are, considering— _well,_ considering how they’ve already _done it_ before! Why are they like this? Why can’t they be more open about their feelings and just go inside and get in bed _and_ —

Elsa turns off the engine. She brings her hands together, places them in her lap, and she has her head down. Like she can’t look Anna in the eye because she’s done something sinful. Like she’s afraid of whatever is going to happen. But she speaks up, “L-let’s… go in?” Elsa’s fingers wring together, and she fiddles with them—tangling and untangling, her nails rubbing at the pads of her digits—again and again. “Before it gets too late…”

_Holy shit._

“Yeah.” Anna manages. Her heart hammers against her chest. Elsa’s saying yes to this. Goodness, she’s _saying yes!_ Anna makes her way to the back of the car and heads to the trunk to carefully take out her bouquet. No matter how much she looks at this, an overflowing warmth would continuously wash upon her; she used to think flowers are overrated—after all, everyone receives flowers on Valentine’s Day. But having truly experienced it for herself, Anna can now proclaim that she has never been more touched. She hugs the flowers to her chest, holding them gently in her arms. The trunk closes slowly, descending until a low _click_ is heard. When Anna raises her head, she sees Elsa just about exiting the car, but… _what is that?_ She looks like she’s in pain again, like she has trouble standing.

“Elsa?” Anna paces towards her. “Are you okay? Why do you look—”

“I-I’m okay,” Elsa says immediately. “Just… these heels are killing me.”

She looks down at the backs of Elsa’s ankles. “Oh, Elsa, they’re chafing your skin and—oh my goodness, you’re bleeding!” So that’s what it is. Anna sighs. “They’re new, aren’t they?”

She nods.

“Probably haven’t broken into them, yet?”

Elsa shakes her head.

Anna gives her an apologetic smile. She wraps her free arm around Elsa’s waist. “Alright, c’mon. Put your arm over my shoulder,” she instructs. “Let’s move slowly, okay? I know how much this hurts.”

“I’m s—” Elsa stops herself when Anna gives her a playful glare. “T-thank you, Anna.”

She grins. “Don’t mention it.”

Not much effort is needed to bring Elsa to the house; once again, she’s light as hell, and… jeez _,_ she smells so good. Not lavender today, oddly. As much as Anna likes that distinct smell on Elsa, she quite likes this new scent. What is it? It’s soft, sweet, and most definitely… vanilla? Anna can’t help it. She inhales, deeper and deeper, each breath longer than the last, and she just wants so much to bury herself in Elsa, because _god damn it_ she really, really, _really_ smells so _fucking_ good.

“Careful,” Anna says as she opens the door.

Despite the darkness, Elsa doesn’t hesitate. She removes her heels and immediately sighs in relief. Like all the tension and stress has been lifted off her shoulders or—well, in this case, her feet. Anna chuckles to the fact that she can literally feel the girl relaxing in her arms, leaning her weight onto the redhead.

“You okay to stand? I’m going to get the lights.”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Elsa says.

“Good,” Anna runs to the light switches. She takes a deep breath, because _here it comes._ “Elsa?”

“Hm?”

 _Okay, okay, okay!_ Anna places her bouquet down on the shelf next to the door. She bites her tongue, clenches her fists, and finally, _finally,_ she flips the light switches on. All of them.

A gasp.

“Surprise!” Anna leaps in front of the blonde, opening her arms in exaggeration. “I hope this isn’t too much, but, um. I thought I should do something. I-I mean it’s Valentine’s Day, and I’ve never actually done anything special for you. So, I thought: hey! What if I decorated the house with balloons and threw confetti at you on this day? To, y’know, be dramatic and all.” She pauses to scratch her cheek with a finger, “But, like, I changed my mind about the confetti part because I didn’t want to clean up. So I guess I just ended up using balloons,” she laughs nervously. “Is… is it okay?”

Elsa’s expression is unreadable. She’s glancing at every corner of the house. Granted, they are only at the entrance and there is only a hallway to look at, but Anna’s filled the entire place up with pink, red, and white balloons. To, like, match the theme and everything. She’s spent some time blowing these things up—nearly passed out on several occasions, but she would always get back to it. She’s also spent a hot minute printing out _‘HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY’,_ each letter on its own A4 paper, attached to a string, and hung it right below the ceiling light. And, finally, what took the most time are these cut-out heart-shaped papers that Anna’s hung in the hallway. _Man,_ that was time-consuming. It was at the point when she was threading the hearts together that Anna thought she was being too extra, but since she was already halfway done, she told herself that she might as well finish the job.

But, seeing Elsa’s reaction now, Anna knows that she’s made a mistake. Slowly, her arms drop, like a deflating balloon.

“Anna,” Elsa steps up, taking her hands into her own.

She chuckles awkwardly. “I’m being super corny, aren’t I?”

The blonde is all smiles. “You are,” she says. And then she comes even closer, “But I find this to be super sweet.”

Her heart leaps.

Elsa leans in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you,” she says, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl for a hug.

Anna returns the hug, giggling at the warmth that Elsa so naturally gives off.

Her laughter seems to be contagious, because Elsa, likewise, breaks into a fit of giggles. “Imagine if I told you I didn’t want to come in,” she says. “What would you have done?”

“Oh, I would have cried,” Anna pulls back. “And—” she tenses, “Oh! Oh my god, what am I doing? I’m not even done with the surprise, ahh!” Anna scrambles to grab Elsa’s favourite slippers as she slips into her own. “Come on, come on, come on!” she exclaims, dragging Elsa further into the hallway.

“Calm down,” Elsa says, still giggling. “What other corny thing have you prepared?”

Anna leads her to the kitchen, kicking the balloons out of the way in her wake. _Ugh,_ she knew she shouldn’t have blown up so much. Once in the room, Anna flips on the light switches and guides the girl towards a stool by the island. “Okay, stay here,” Anna says. She gets a mock-suspicious glare from Elsa as she backs away towards the fridge.

“If you’ve baked me a heart-shaped cake, Anna…”

“Heart-shaped— _psh,”_ she gives Elsa an eye-roll. “Please, I’m corny, but what you’ve suggested is just atrocious.” Anna takes the item out of the fridge, hiding it behind herself as she returns to the blonde.

“What is that…?” Elsa squints, tilting in her seat to get an angle of whatever Anna is hiding.

She grins, her teeth actually showing this time. Anna takes the item out, “Ta-da!”

Not going to lie, Anna is actually quite pleased with Elsa’s reaction this time. In an instant, her breath hitches, shoulders rise, and her eyes widen. Elsa looks at the present, up at Anna, back at the present, and then at Anna again. She brings her hands to her mouth. “Anna…”

“Now, the question is,” Anna says, bringing her bouquet of _chocolate roses_ closer to Elsa, “is _this_ okay?”

Elsa looks so happy, so moved, so touched, Anna thinks this is how she was like this afternoon at school when the blonde showed up. Teary-eyed and all. So flowers really do have a sort of magic to them. They have the capability to move a girl. Hm, _the more you know._

“Did…” Elsa starts, slowly bringing her hands down, “… did you make this?”

“Oh, yes I did,” Anna says.

Elsa takes the bouquet from Anna’s hands carefully. It is literally a bouquet of roses, except they are chocolate. She’s also added in a few strawberries to balance out the colour. Anna’s googled through a ton of images for references and Youtubed a bunch of guides. Dark brown’s kind of hard to match with colours, so Anna’s opted for a layer of gold wrapping paper beneath the chocolate, followed by pink, and then black to complete the look. She’s tied the entire thing together with a single red ribbon, and as for the stems, she’s used black plastic skewer sticks as substitution. Finally, she’s stuck her meticulously crafted chocolate-shaped roses on top, forming her (and she’s going to admit this proudly) masterpiece.

“How long did this take you?”

“Not long, really,” Anna explains. “Once I got the hang of it, about a couple hours? The first few flowers were a failure. No biggie, though. I just ended up eating them. Actually, I think I ate some of the successful ones as well.” She laughs. “Which explains why I’ve only made you twelve. But. Anyway. Why don’t you try one? It’s pretty good, I promise.”

“I-I know it’s good,” Elsa says softly. “But how can I possibly eat this? It’s so beautiful.”

“I can always make you more,” Anna suggests. “I’ll even bake you that heart-shaped cake you want so much.”

“I don’t—” she is cut off by her own laughter, “I don’t want a heart-shaped cake!”

“Come on! Give it a chance? I’m sure it’ll turn out great.”

“Oh, I’m sure anything from you will turn out great,” Elsa says. “You’re naturally talented at everything that you do.”

“Well…” Anna starts. She tries to think of a comeback, but is there need to make one? _Can_ she make one? Elsa’s not wrong; Anna is quite good at everything that she does. Wow, this just hit her—is she some sort of genius? Or… uh, the more plausible explanation is that she has good genetics. Yes. She’s inherited her cooking talents from her mother, her sportiness from, _huh,_ both her parents. And, as for academics, well, it’s also both her parents. How lucky is she? Guess she’s got to thank them when they return—

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Elsa says with a mischievous smirk. “I see that look in you.”

Her eyelids flutter. Anna’s jaw hangs loose, about to retort, only to get cut off when Elsa picks a single chocolate rose from the bouquet and points it right at Anna’s lips.

“ _Ahh,_ ” says Elsa.

She blinks again. The sweetness touches her lips, and naturally, she parts them to get a taste. Even though this is made specifically for Elsa, the word _no_ and chocolate just do not mix. Illogical. Completely ludicrous. Anna, for one, would knock down the first person to reject the sweet, heavenly goodness. She lets the chocolate melt in her mouth, savouring it fully before swallowing it down.

Her eyes meets Elsa’s, and quite naturally, the two just start smiling at each other.

“Okay,” Anna says. “You stay here and have the rest yourself. I’m going to get you some bandages.”

“I still don’t know how I can eat this, Anna,” Elsa complains as the redhead walks off somewhere. “It’s like eating a piece of artwork.”

“Think of it this way,” Anna calls from the washroom, which she is certain where her mother’s put all the first-aid supplies. “We always end up cutting into the prettiest cakes,” _ah-ha,_ it’s underneath the sink. “And we never feel bad about it, right?”

“I feel bad about it…”

Anna returns, placing the kit onto the stool next to Elsa. She runs to get her hands washed at the kitchen sink and grabs a clean towel, dabbing it a little with water before going back to the blonde. “You really shouldn’t. It’s made for us to enjoy, inside and out, y’know?” Anna kneels down at Elsa’s feet. Gently, she wipes away the small traces of blood on the wounds—there’s only a little. It’s not so much a bleeding problem; it’s the fact that her skin has been scraped away by the new heels. Again, they’re small, minor wounds, but they sure as hell can hurt like a _bitch_ when in the shower. Anna grabs the little bottle of petroleum jelly from the first-aid kit and applies a bit of it onto the injury on her right ankle.

Elsa winces, gasping at the contact. She places the chocolate down onto the island quickly and braces herself, gripping onto the stool with her dear life.

“Hey, hey, relax. It’s not going to hurt for long.” Anna tries to soothe her. 

But Elsa has her eyes shut in distress. Her entire body is tense, and it’s so obvious that she doesn’t like pain, something that Anna completely understands. Getting bruises is one thing, but cuts and abrasions? Egh, they’re the worst.

She finishes by sticking a piece of bandage over the wound. “Just your other foot, now. Hang in there, okay?”

Elsa doesn’t respond. She’s too busy focusing on blocking out the pain—maybe by extension, she’s blocking out all her other senses? Anna knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help it. Her lips arch upwards, and the need to tease Elsa has never been more urgent.

“Elsa,” she calls softly.

No response. Poor girl is just clenching a fist, biting into her forefinger.

Anna smirks. Her hands come to cradle that single foot. She supports the weight of it with one hand, her other runs along the bump of Elsa’s heel bone, down to curve of the midfoot, and then the pads of her fingers trace the blonde’s perfectly pedicured toes.

“Hey,” she calls to the blonde, even softer this time.

… who then, slowly, opens her eyes, and there is this invisible tether established between them. Like a magnetic pull. Positive and negative, yin and yang, hot and cold. Two very different concepts, two forces that are not supposed to mix, yet the attraction is undeniable—it is passionate. And this passion, as Anna understands, is at its boiling point, threatening to spill. Like if they don’t do something about it, the consequences are going to be severe. Almost as though their lives are at stake.

Quite the analogy, but this is one statement that Anna will never refute. “Elsa,” she calls again. She says her name like a prayer, like a worship, like she is pouring every ounce of adoration, admiration, and affection into it. Gently, Anna brings the foot up, her gaze never leaving Elsa’s—

“ _Anna_ —”

—and she kisses the knuckle of Elsa’s big toe.

A sharp inhale.

The smirk prolongs. Anna kisses higher. She is merely brushing her lips along the skin, and when she reaches Elsa’s outer ankle bone, Anna pauses, gazing up at the older girl in silence, but her eyes are fierce, unrelenting. Blindly, Anna reaches for what she needs—the ointment and the bandage—and applies the same amount of attention, the same amount of care (if not more), onto that other wound.

She does all of this as she kisses her way up the blonde’s shin, each peck soft, _feather-light_. Higher, _higher._

Elsa, on her part, tries her absolute best to stay quiet. But the tiny mewls and gasps still slip through, and they serve to encourage Anna. They urge the redhead to do it faster. Do it _more._

Which is precisely why Anna so naturally finds herself kneeling between Elsa’s parted legs, the blue, silky chiffon dress hiked up to the older girl’s thighs. Anna gives her one more look, one more smile, before kissing her way into Elsa’s inner thighs. Her hands, in the meantime, run along the smoothness of Elsa’s legs, up and down, _up and down._ She feels with her palms how soft they are to touch—not a single blemish; nothing but pure, white, immaculate skin. Anna grips at the backs of Elsa’s knees to urge her to spread them wider. Show her _more._

Surprisingly, Elsa doesn’t fight it. She reaches down, digging her fingers into Anna’s loose hair, and, quite daringly, pulls her in. Anna is beyond shocked, and she can barely breathe.

No, seriously.

She needs air. Anna’s underneath all this fabric and she can’t see anything but… b-but Elsa’s white _laced_ panties and _holy shit_ please _breathe breathe breathe…!_

“Oh!”

Anna pulls away, and in a flash, she comes back up to meet Elsa at eye-level. She gives her no warning—she just gets right to it. Anna pulls Elsa’s cardigan off, letting it slide unceremoniously onto the tiles of the kitchen floor, and then she wraps her arms around the blonde, searching for that zipper, which she just tugs down—

“W-wait, Anna…!”

“No.” She says into Elsa’s ear, “Not waiting anymore.”

—and Elsa _keens._

It all happens so quickly, too fast to comprehend. Anna pulls the dress down, exposing Elsa upper body, and then she lifts the blonde up by her thighs so that she’d sit on the island. Admittedly, Anna is being needlessly aggressive, but _fucking whatever_. She nearly rips the freaking dress as she struggles to get it off, letting it to join that cardigan on the floor. Anna kicks the stool out of the way—it falls over, and she’s pretty sure this place kind of looks like a crime scene at this point. But does she care?

“ _Anna!”_

No. Hell no.

Anna comes back between Elsa’s legs, kissing, _sucking_ the sensitive skin on her inner thighs. She nips with her teeth, tugging at the paleness until it turns pink, until it turns into an angry red—she does this to both legs—until Elsa cries her name like that again.

And as Anna kisses closer towards the centre, the blonde falls back, lying completely on the island. Elsa hisses, temporarily distracted by the coldness of the marble material of the counter, and Anna takes advantage of this; she follows the heady scent that’s been flooding her senses for the past _hours._ It’s everything Elsa, mingled with a smouldering heat, and then there’s this strong and entirely distinct scent of vanilla. It’s driving her crazy. Is vanilla an aphrodisiac? God, it fucking has to be. Because Anna is never so vulgar, not even in her mind. Yet, here she is, wanting nothing more but to taste more of Elsa.

You know what? She’s just going to be completely honest.

She wants to _fuck_ Elsa.

Have all of this girl’s scent on her tongue.

And she will.

No hesitation. Anna pushes the thin piece of panties aside, exposing beautiful, _beautiful_ pinkness. The smell hits her first—it penetrates right through her mind, and Anna seriously feels a bit lightheaded when she realizes how provocative their position is. But she doesn’t let this stop her.

Anna gets right back to it. She forgets everything she’s watched in those porn videos for the past few days—because _what the hell?_ Only now does she realize that this is all about improvisation. No amount of watching a girl getting eaten out is going to give her the necessary experience. This is something she needs to learn for herself. First-hand.

What Elsa likes, what makes Elsa react, what makes Elsa _scream._

Which is why she lets it come to her, as naturally as it should.

She pulls Elsa’s panties down, throwing them somewhere behind herself, and she takes it slow. Anna runs the tip of her tongue at Elsa’s outer folds—just to get a feel of how sensitive the girl is, and, sure enough—

“Oh, _god…!”_

—super sensitive. Elsa bucks her hips, and Anna reads that this means she wants more. But Anna wants to take this slow. She wants to make this girl feel good, for as long as she possibly can last. She holds Elsa down, looping her arms around the latter’s thighs to lock her in place and to spread those legs wider. Anna then dives in, flat tongue lapping along Elsa’s warmth. Her taste has this hint of sweetness; it’s tangy, and it is most definitely addicting. What Anna knows is that she can’t get enough, and that the faster and harder she licks, the sharper Elsa’s gasps become.

But she doesn’t want this to end. Not so soon.

Anna softens her approach. She plants small kisses around the area, nipping at the folds as gently as possible to ease the girl, telling her through actions that everything’s okay.

“Mmn… A-Anna…”

Right away, she looks up. Elsa’s broken voice does things to her; it has the ability to consume her mind. “What do you need?” Anna stays where she is, never stopping those kisses. “I’m here.”

_I’ll give you everything._

There is a gleam in her blue eyes. Elsa gives her a timid smile, and then she finds Anna’s hand with her own. Their fingers intertwine, and that smile soon turns into a more joyous, more confident one. Elsa’s other hand, still cradling the back of Anna’s head, pulls gently.

And that’s when Anna understands.

 _More_. Elsa wants more. She wants Anna to touch _more._

Higher. She kisses her way up. Her tongue trails along Elsa’s slit, and Anna would mischievously dip herself in—

“ _Nnn…!”_

—so warm, so soft, so _tight._ Elsa arches her back, even higher so as Anna reaches her goal. She’s teasing at first, flicking the nub with the tip of her tongue. Elsa squirms—Anna sees the blonde’s abdomen tense, her chest expands, and the girl looks like she’s hyperventilating—which is exactly when Anna takes the initiative to wrap her lips around it, but when she actually _sucks—_

 _“Anna!_ Oh— _god…! Ahhn…!”_

Harder, _yes._ Elsa’s body writhes like she’s fighting it, but Anna holds her down. Elsa’s grip on her hand tightens to the point that it hurts, but Anna holds her back with equal fervour. With her free hand, she reaches Elsa’s slick folds, coats a finger with her wetness, and lets it slip in.

Elsa’s moans crescendo into broken cries, she sounds like she’s in both agony and endless pleasure, and. _Jesus._

It’s there. S-she _can’t._

It’s hurting Elsa, and it hurts Anna just as much to know this.

She pauses, kissing her way up the faint, vertical line along Elsa’s stomach, her breasts, neck, cheek—a peck on the lips—and she moves to her ear.

“Tell me to stop.”

But Elsa shakes her head, refusing vehemently. She hugs Anna close, wrapping her legs around the younger girl’s waist.

Anna sighs. “But if it hurts…”

“No,” Elsa rasps, “ _Please,_ Anna. Just—I-I…”

“But—”

“I want you.”

_Oh god._

_Oh my dear god._

There is a moment where everything just stops. Nothing but sound. The ticking of the clock in the kitchen. The rhythmic _tap-tap-tap_ in the sink. The echoes of Elsa’s words, which Anna lets them repeat in her head. But when she remembers to breathe again, Anna chokes out a laugh. It sounds more like a cry, really, but. Yeah.

Elsa smiles warmly at her. “I want just you,” she says again, this time planting a kiss on Anna’s cheek.

She nods. Before she moves back down, though, Anna comes in to kiss Elsa on the earlobe. “If it hurts too much, you have to let me know, okay?”

Elsa breathes out, and that is enough of an affirmation.

Anna kisses her way back down. The same path—she purposely sucks harder and harder the lower she goes, and finally, she comes back to Elsa’s clit. Her finger is at the blonde’s opening once again. Anna strokes her centre, coating her digit as much as possible, and then little by little, she lets Elsa’s heat envelop her.

A pained cry. Elsa’s jaw hangs loose, but she doesn’t say anything.

Anna slips in deeper, letting the heat surround her finger. Buried to her knuckle, Anna doesn’t move; she lets Elsa adjust, gives her a moment to get used to the intrusion. And when she feels Elsa twitch, as if telling her to _please, continue,_ Anna starts stroking the girl’s inner walls. Retract, enter, retract, _fill her._

And for every thrust, Elsa would let out a gasp. _Anna Anna Anna._ Breathless and frantic _._ It’s in sync with her movements, in sync with her hips, and everything comes together like alchemy as Anna sucks harder, as her finger reaches deeper, until she touches something within. Something soft—a high-strung nerve, perhaps.

Because without warning, an intense, violent tremor ripples throughout Elsa’s slender body. It pulsates through her veins, shooting explosions into every inch of her, and Anna can practically feel the girl’s orgasm.

No, for real. When Elsa comes, it’s very obvious.

Her cries would halt, first of all. After a series of high-pitched moans, everything would freeze. In that millisecond, Elsa’s body would then shake in an uncontrolled manner—Anna notices that this is particularly prominent in her legs. Is this why she loves Elsa’s legs so much? _Anyway,_ her body would then tense, and it is at this point that Elsa would be super affectionate. She would be in need of a hug, maybe some kisses. Just some sort of physical contact. Well, Anna’s only given this feeling to Elsa twice, but that concludes what she’s observed.

So, her question is, what happens if she prolongs it?

Anna moves her finger again, right over that same, soft area she’s found earlier. Her lips, still wrapped around Elsa’s clit, releases. She lets the tip of her tongue flick that bundle of nerves _and—_

“No— _please,_ Anna _… ahhnn—_ please…! _I just_ — _”_

Fuck. Elsa’s voice. She really can’t. Anna _can’t._

A bit more. Anna doesn’t want to let go, so just _a bit more._ She plants several more kisses around Elsa’s clit and draws back, pulling her finger away, and comes up to meet a very overwhelmed Elsa.

The girl’s hair is disheveled, she’s panting, out of breath, but she _sure as hell_ is still hot as fuck.

When Elsa can make sense of what has happened, those teary eyes flutter.

Anna has run out of patience. _It’s so hot._ She has never been so wound up before. God, her centre throbs _._ Pulsing. She needs… she _needs._

“E-Elsa…” she croaks. “Upstairs. Now. _Please.”_

No questions asked. Elsa nods curtly and gets up, letting the redhead lead her by the hand past her discarded clothing, past that balloon-filled hallway, through the unlit rooms, up the stairs, and when they burst into Anna’s bedroom, Elsa’s pushed onto the bed. Anna straddles her, trapping her down between her thighs as she removes her clothes, her skirt, and her panties in the quickest way possible. The only source of light comes from the streetlights that pour gently in from outside her window, the blinds filtering the little radiance that they have. But it’s enough. It lets Elsa see just about enough while simultaneously hiding her very apparent flush that has overtaken her natural skin tone.

Enough teasing. At least, not for Anna today. Not right now. She is _not_ in the mood.

She reaches behind herself, unhooking her bra.

It is extremely flattering when Elsa just moans to the sight.

It most certainly brings Anna to the edge, almost making her come right then and there, when Elsa’s dainty hands reach up to tug the undergarment off, throwing it aside, only to come back to cup her breasts. Elsa’s soft touch brings her to a hissing gasp, and then the girl sits up, leaning forward to kiss a perky nipple. Anna, in the meantime, reaches behind the blonde to remove her bra, and for the first time, the two are stark naked. Together.

They seem to have just realized this, which is why it feels as though the atmosphere has shifted. There is no movement. The pair just sits there, perplexed in where they are, how they got here, and why this is all happening. Somebody swallows, and the sound practically echoes in the room. They stare at each other, wordless, out of breath, but enraptured. It’s confusing—from a tutor-student relationship to an actual romantic one—it all happened so quickly.

Love at first sight is so clichéd, so much like a fairy tale, so unrealistic.

But this girl.

Anna brushes that single strand of hair out of Elsa’s eye, only to let it fall stubbornly back to its original position. Elsa, likewise, occupies herself with something. Her fingers come to Anna’s shoulder blades, where she draws small, delicate circles. Her touch is comforting, tender, and it makes Anna smile.

She loves her so much.

And Anna doesn’t know how else to show Elsa this but to kiss her.

Not the usual, innocent peck on the lips, but it is full, voracious, and very much messy _._ Their tongues fight to assert dominance, which Anna easily wins, of course, considering the angle. She thrusts in, letting Elsa taste the residue of herself, and Anna thinks the blonde actually likes it—because _look at her._ Tilting her head and widening her jaw to get more, to encourage Anna to _come deeper._ Sounds of their teeth clashing, their laboured breaths, the quiet mewls, and the way their tongues move in each other. It—it’s incredible.

“ _Elsa,”_ Anna hears herself say.

The blonde acknowledges her. She knows this because she’s kissing deeper, more fervently.

It’s getting so hot.

“Elsa,” she calls again. “Please…” in a desperate attempt to find relief, she moves her hips. “… _please.”_

Nothing else needs to be said. Elsa trails a hand down, following the bumps of Anna’s spine, runs her fingers along the redhead’s bottom, and finally stops at the heat between her legs. _God,_ Anna realizes now how wet she is. She’s practically _dripping_ , and if she had a bit of shame left in her, she would be tangled in an awkward mess. Apologizing and attempting to explain herself, rambling and stuttering. But the thing is, the need for relief has never been more pronounced. Anna doesn’t—she _can’t_ pull away from the kiss. What she has the capacity for at the moment, is the ability to rock forward.

A tiny squeak comes from Elsa—like she’s surprised. There is still a slight hint of hesitation in the blonde, and so Anna does it again. She makes it more obvious, finding the position of Elsa’s finger and rubs herself along it.

Takes a few tries, but a hesitant Elsa finally gives in.

Two fingers.

Anna squeaks.

She enters her. And although the slick wetness is making it easy, like Elsa, there is resistance. Anna feels a sharp pang—a _sting,_ and she clenches her teeth.

“Anna…” Elsa’s whispers come with her kisses, which she plants along the redhead’s ear. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” _Kiss,_ “I’ve got you.”

So loving. So careful. Anna wants to cry and laugh; she wants to return Elsa’s kisses and tell her that she isn’t scared—she’s just surprised. She ends up giggling instead, though. Too drunk on happiness and all.

Her laughter reassures Elsa, who breathes out contently and strokes along her wall, easing Anna up even more. Anna hums, letting the ache and tension dissipate, anticipating as a new form of pleasure slowly takes over. Elsa’s touch run deeper, her strokes widening into circles. Faster, _harder,_ until Anna buries her face in the crook of Elsa’s neck, hugging the girl with her dear life.

That is the cue. Anna is a bit embarrassed to ask out loud, but she knows that Elsa understands.

She knows, because Elsa is pushing in—all the way until the last joint. The pain dulls into a numbing pulse; what’s irritating at this point is no longer the sting, it’s the fact that she isn’t getting enough. So Anna rolls her hips, letting more of Elsa in, urging the girl fill her. The feeling of fullness, of completeness—it’s everything that Anna needs right now. _So please—_

“Don’t stop. Elsa. _Please,_ don’t stop.” She breathes into the blonde’s shoulder.

Elsa wraps her free arm around Anna’s tiny frame, holding her protectively. Her fingers, at the same time, continue to thrust—a steady and entirely calming pace. One that doesn’t rush, one that lets Anna _feel._ The pads of Elsa’s digits, the gentle strength of her strokes, and the comfortable rhythm that brings her higher and higher above the threshold. Elsa does all of this while kissing her cheek, whispering the sweetest words to her.

_“You’re okay.”_

_“I’m here, Anna.”_

_“You’re so beautiful.”_

Words that Anna wants to tell Elsa. Words that have been conjuring in her head since she’s laid eyes on this girl. Words that are about to _spill_ out of her mouth because she’s been dying to tell her. Dying to let Elsa know.

Can’t she let her know? Is this an appropriate moment?

_Please._

She wants to tell her.

Anna rolls to her side. The angle changes, it becomes easier for Elsa to move her fingers, as it becomes less exhausting for Anna to buck her hips. Their eyes come to find each other through the dark—sharp glimmers of blue and green-blue—and Anna comes in.

The closeness makes Elsa let out a heartfelt sigh. The shine in her eyes become much more prominent—like she’s lost in happiness, enraptured by the warmth that surrounds them. Anna circles an arm around Elsa’s waist, her other hand moves lower to find her heat again. _God,_ she’s still so wet. Elsa’s still so ready.

She doesn’t hesitate.

Like Elsa, Anna pushes two fingers in, letting the softness once again wrap around her, _protect_ her. She moves deep, finds that tender area along Elsa’s front wall, and she mirrors the blonde’s strength, caressing it in the same manner. It makes Elsa throw her head back, crying out in pleasure. Anna finds the sight to be beautiful—she acts on instinct and moves forward to kiss Elsa’s exposed neck, running her tongue along the tendon, stopping at her chin.

“Anna—” Elsa cries, but she is calling her name. She wants Anna to listen.

And she does. Anna runs her lips up until she meets Elsa’s. “Yeah?” she gasps, forcing herself to concentrate despite the pressure that is building at her core.

They are nearing their climax, but _please_.

Please _,_ just _focus_.

Elsa looks at her with so much hope, so much anticipation. “H-hold me…” she finally breathes.

Anna’s ears ring. She’s going deaf from the sound of her own heartbeat.

“Please _…”_ Her voice is layered with a hint of fear. Just a bit. “D-don’t—” _a moan,_ “—don’t go…”

Her heart drops.

“… _don’t let go.”_

Anna sees it all.

Warm trails of tears stream down half-lidded, hazy, cerulean eyes. As this happens, Anna gives Elsa everything. She presses their bodies together. Inseparable. Nothing can come between them. Elsa’s cries escalate, they grow louder, higher pitched, but she doesn’t stop. She continues to roll her hips into the younger girl’s touch, succumbing to all things _Anna,_ and the girl in question rests her forehead against Elsa’s.

“Never,” Anna speaks, as clearly as she can. She kisses those tears away. Kisses her way to Elsa’s lips. “Elsa _…_ ”

She’s there. Elsa’s shaking and _whimpering_ and her body has gone taut, but she _stays and listens—_

A cry. Whether it comes from Anna or Elsa, neither one knows. Elsa places all her attention on Anna. Her thumb finds the younger girl’s bundle of nerves and she _presses down—_

“I-I…” Anna is cut off. She bares her teeth as she, too, can no longer resist it. The waves crash upon her as a burst of heat explodes from within, washing up to her chest, drowning her in nothing but pleasure and she sees _brightness._

White.

Blurred.

Muffled.

_“… love you.”_

Warmth. Soft, delicate warmth touches her cheek and Anna realizes that she has tears streaming down as well.

_Wait, what just…?_

Anna gasps. She refocuses, blinking several times to brush away the blurriness in her eyes and she sees Elsa. Thin brows creased together like she’s scared, but she is undoubtedly smiling. So beautiful. So _sweet._

“D-did you… Elsa, did you just…?”

Elsa’s smile widens. She gives Anna one more kiss on the eyelid. “I love you.”

One heartbeat, two heartbeats, _three heartbeats._

Anna chokes out a laugh, her bright eyes linger on Elsa’s and she throws her arms around the blonde’s neck, throws her whole body on top of Elsa.

Is it possible for one to laugh so hard until one cries? Yeah, sure, the funniest, most comedic movies may be capable of doing this to people, but what Anna feels cannot be compared to a movie. What she feels isn’t just joy. It’s safe to say that it is a release—it is cathartic.

She doesn’t know how else to express such happiness, but she does know that she can’t stop kissing Elsa.

“I love you, too,” Anna says through tears. “I love you so much.”

Elsa, likewise, doesn’t stop kissing her. The tears for her don't seem to stop coming, either.

And the two continue to embrace—hold each other close for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i have to address several things:
> 
> 1) no, anna's parents aren't going to die lmao killing elsa's parents is the most angsty this is going to get  
> 2) no, I haven't forgotten about the lingerie  
> 3) no, I haven't forgotten about the song that came with the snowglobe (but i bet you guys have)
> 
> ...
> 
> i've also manage to fit about all the tags of the story in this chapter lol.
> 
> anyway, thank you as usual for reading my work, for commenting, for leaving kudos, and for bookmarking! even though this looks like the end, i'm just going to say that we are entering the 2nd arc of the story (hence the summary change).


	17. Chapter 17

_Warm. Soft. So sweet._

Anna giggles.

Smells so good. Kind of tickling her, though. She inhales.

_“Mmn…”_

And she sounds cute too! _Oh,_ she just wants to cuddle forever.

Another giggle. This time, though, it did not come from Anna.

_“Anna…”_

_Wait_.

Anna blinks herself awake. When she opens her eyes, all she sees is white gold; all she smells is vanilla, and all she can feel is an unparalleled softness in her arms. She smiles. One of these days, Anna will let Elsa spoon her, but for now, _please,_ just let her hug the most huggable person in the whole world a bit longer. Elsa’s skin is so smooth, so impossibly soft, she can stay like this forever. In fact, Anna’s groggy mind begs her to go back to sleep, to just hug this loveable girl and stay in bed, but a larger part—she glances at the clock, _7:05AM_ (damn it internal clock, just let her sleep in so she can skip school altogether!) _—_ a larger part is yelling at her to get up.

She sighs. Can’t skip school. Her parents would get pissed. _Elsa_ would get pissed.

Anna takes a deep breath, and then comes another sigh. “Elsa,” she nudges gently, right next to the girl’s ear, “Hey. Wake up, sleepy head.”

 _“Hnn…”_ Elsa moans.

Anna breathes out as she smiles. She tries again, practically whispering into the blonde’s ear this time. “Come on. Time for school.”

A shake of the head. Elsa grunts like she’s annoyed, snuggling into the pillow. “Back to sleep…”

Yes, Elsa’s a heavy sleeper, that Anna already knows. But she doesn’t know that Elsa’s not so much of a morning person. She totally looks like the type to wake up at 6AM to work out and stuff, does she not? Considering how most of Elsa’s classes are scheduled for the mornings, it is only logical. Or… _hm._ I-is it because Anna’s… uh. Well, she doesn’t want to give herself too much credit, but, like. It _could_ be a possibility.

… Is it because Anna’s worn her out last night?

_“Anna…”_

She hitches her breath. Anna raises her head to look over at Elsa, who, surprisingly, isn’t awake. _Huh._ Elsa sleep talks?

A giggle. And then comes the sweetest smile of all smiles.

“ _… I love you.”_

Anna breathes. A sharp, _sharp_ gasp of air. _God!_ Her heart is about to burst out of her chest! She bites onto her bottom lip to suppress her need to scream. _Ahhh—_ how she wants to just hug Elsa even tighter! Never let go! Cuddle forever…!

C-calm down. Just. _Breathe, Anna, breathe._

“Love you, too,” Anna eventually whispers. She leans in a little to trail gentle kisses from Elsa’s ear to her cheek and then up to her temple. “You dork.”

That’s it. Anna will gamble it all. She knows for a fact now that in her previous life, she’s actually done some godly deed. She has to have sacrificed something—perhaps she really did donate all her organs, after all?—because why else is she blessed to be loved by this angel? Why else would this embodiment of perfection love her so? Of all the people in the world—many of whom are far more wonderful, far more deserving—Elsa has chosen her.

God, she is so _fucking_ lucky.

Anna kisses Elsa one more time before finally deciding to get up. She’ll let Elsa sleep a bit longer. Maybe wake her up when she’s done showering and has made breakfast. Carefully, Anna slips her arms away from Elsa’s slim body. The cold morning air hits her immediately and Anna realizes how incredibly naked they both are. Fighting the blush, Anna pulls the covers up to Elsa’s shoulders while she herself runs into her bathroom. It’s a bit difficult, by the way, because her legs are kind of sore. Not the type of sore that she feels when she’s finished a game. Rather, it’s a good sore. Anna doesn’t really know how to explain this. Just. It’s… _warm?_ Yeah, she’ll go with that. It’s not an aching pain; it pulsates, radiates, _thumps._ Kind of like a heartbeat.

And it comes from between her legs.

It reminds her of Elsa’s touches. The way those slender fingers—

_Gasp._

Heat shoots up to her cheeks. Anna covers her mouth.

_Oh._

Well, then. Okay. _Um._ So that’s what it is.

She looks up, facing herself in the mirror. Only, once more, she realizes how naked she is. Seeing the faint, pink marks scattered across her chest and neck, Anna’s reminded that last night, she’s— _oh, god._ That _thump_ returns. Between her legs. Anna clenches a fist close to her chest as her mind finds the need to echo to her—

She’s lost her virginity.

To Elsa.

Last night.

And she loved _every moment of it._

Elsa’s cries. Elsa’s taste. Elsa’s touch. How Elsa kissed her. How Elsa made her sound.

She can still hear it now. Still feel it now. How intense everything was.

_“Mmn…”_

… Holy shit—d-did she just…? _Oh god—_

Anna spins, turning away from the mirror and jumps right into her bathtub, turning on the tab to the hottest. Before long, a thick layer of steam fills the bathroom. It isn’t until Anna feels a slight burn that she adjusts the temperature of the water. _Phew._ Seriously, gotta stop thinking so much about it. Like, now that they’ve actually _done it,_ Anna thinks for sure that things between them are just going to be more natural. But here she is, feeling all nervous, hot, and unmistakably awkward.

But it’s a good awkward. Because Anna can’t wipe the smile off her face. Can’t stop thinking about how the mere thought of the blonde sleeping in her bed makes her so giddy. 

* * *

It is exactly like that time Elsa got drugged.

E-except, like, Anna most certainly did not drug Elsa. Well, if one counts sex as a drug, then, sure. It can get addicting and all. Technically. But. That— _that’s not the point!_

What Anna means is that Elsa is still sleeping soundly, just as she did on Christmas morning. She’s curled up to her side, her hands clasped together, like she’s praying, and although asleep, Elsa is bearing that wonderful smile. Calling her adorable may be getting old, but how else can Anna describe this? Lovely? Precious? Endearing? She can pull up all the words in the thesaurus and still fail to find the correct terminology that defines what she sees.

The fact that Elsa’s makeup is still somehow so intact despite being left on overnight. How, even though her hair is no longer well-kempt in that windswept style—along with her braid, which is pretty much loosened by now—she still looks so freaking beautiful. She—Elsa’s just. _Sigh._ She’s so perfect.

Anna kneels next to the bed, and she finds it hard to leave the house when her girlfriend is freaking naked in _her_ bed. _Ahh_ —how she wants to jump back in there to join Elsa. J-just sleeping, though. Nothing else. Well, Anna can at least wrap her arms around Elsa’s waist, right? Maybe hide her face in her neck? Relatively innocent stuff is what Anna means—

“You’re going to be late…” Elsa murmurs with a smile, eyes still closed.

 _Oof._ Broken out of her trance, but Anna recovers quickly. She runs her thumb along the blonde’s cheek, drawing slow circles on her smooth skin. “Slept well?”

The blonde hums. “Mhmm…” she nods.

And it makes Anna giggle. “My bed is really comfortable, isn’t it?”

Finally, Elsa opens her eyes. Her smile remains, and somehow, when the two make eye contact, that very smile just starts to radiate. “It smells like you.”

“Creeper.” Anna grins.

Elsa pulls the covers up to her nose, hiding the very apparent dusting of pink that is spreading across her cheeks.

“But a cute creeper,” Anna says, pulling the covers down a little to kiss her again, this time on the tip of her nose. “I’m off to school,” she grabs her backpack leaning next to her nightstand. “I’ve made you breakfast; it’s sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Just pop it in the microwave to reheat it, okay?”

Elsa curls up into a ball, her shoulders coming up to her ears.

“Hey,” Anna kneels down next to her bed, immediately tending to her. She cups Elsa’s cheek, “What’s wrong?”

To which the blonde just shakes her head a little. Eventually, she goes on, “… Do you have to go?”

 _Aww!_ This adorable, little, _squishy bunny!_

(But calm down. Just _calm down,_ Anna. Don’t be embarrassing yourself.)

Anna gives her an apologetic smile. She brushes a few strands of hair out of Elsa’s bright blue eyes. “Hey, no amount of you being a cute baby is going to keep me from going to school. I hope you’re proud of me for saying this.”

Elsa returns the redhead’s smile with one of her own—a much gentler and more delicate one. “I am very proud,” her voice is quiet, but it is filled with so much reassurance. Nothing but truth behind her words. “Give me a minute to get dressed? I’ll drive you to school.”

Anna chuckles. “That’s so sweet of you. But it’s okay—I’m used to taking the bus. It’s just a few stops away. Plus, I’m sure you want to stay in bed to sniff me a bit longer. That and…” she bites back a laugh, “you’re very naked.”

It makes Elsa pout. A hint of pink spreads across her pale cheeks. But she isn’t offended; in fact, she seems amused, and Anna is so glad that she can throw jokes around so comfortably.

“Here I am, trying to spoil you,” Elsa mumbles. “And what do I get in return?”

“Um,” Anna takes a minute to think. “Me, also spoiling you?”

Elsa glares. “I fail to see how calling me naked is spoiling me.”

“Hey,” Anna starts, “I’ve made you breakfast and I’m letting you sleep in. I don’t even need you to get dressed! So, I think I’m being a very good girlfriend right now.”

Elsa gives the younger girl an eye-roll, trying to look annoyed, but she really can’t mask her smile.

Anna lets out a breath of amusement, feigning annoyance herself, and then she puffs up her cheeks. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?!” She climbs back into the bed, straddling the older girl between her thighs. Elsa giggles, the sound of their joined laughter filling the room and Anna puts in a bit of effort to grab onto the blonde’s flailing arms, pinning them above the girl’s head. “Apologize. Right now!”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong!” the blonde continues giggling.

“You really think so?” Anna holds back a chuckle. “You’re really going to say that to me with a straight face?”

“Yes,” Elsa grins, “I’m just reacting naturally to your unspeakable behaviour.”

“ _Unspeakable?”_ Anna exaggerates her tone— “I’ll show you unspeakable,”—pins both Elsa’s wrists above her head— “How _dare_ you treat Queen Anna with such disrespect!”—and aims for the girl’s side with her free hand.

Upon contact, Elsa’s instinct is to squirm away, which proves to be futile, considering how she’s completely pinned down. The redhead’s thighs have trapped her in place, so all she can do is wriggle awkwardly as she struggles to catch her breath through her laughter.

“Feel the need to apologize, yet?” Anna asks cockily, fingers dancing at Elsa’s waist.

“N-no…!” Elsa squeaks, still fighting to break free.

The redhead huffs, her smirk becoming more prominent, and she tickles harder. “So you mean to commit treason!”

“I’m—” she gasps, sounding as though she is crying and laughing at the same time, “—not apologizing to a tyrant…!”

“And did you just—” Anna feigns a look of surprise, “—call me a _tyrant_? I’m, like, the most benevolent ruler there is…” she hesitates, “… if I ever do get to be one. I think. _Maybe._ ”

“Oh, okay,” Elsa dares to roll her eyes again. _The nerve of her!_ And then she smiles. “You’re so benevolent that people would easily take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of— _what?!”_ Anna draws back, holding onto her hips as she puffs her cheeks up. “I wouldn’t let anyone take ad—”

She can’t finish. _Jeez,_ Elsa’s is actually so quick. And _cunning._ Who would’ve known? In the midst of her monologue, Elsa has flipped their position, now pinning _her_ down.

“Huh?”

A smirk. Elsa looks at her with the sexiest half-lidded gaze; long, dark lashes that seem to move in slow motion as they bat. Her platinum blonde hair is completely loose by now, brushed to one side, flowing elegantly over her shoulder. The single hair tie that holds her braid in place has disappeared somewhere, and… _oh god._ Anna swallows. The power that she held mere seconds ago has now been reversed. Elsa with her hair down really is a whole new entity. This appearance has the ability to render Anna frozen, make her limbs weak, and it’s kind of unbelievable. To think that sweet, helpless, her _squishy bunny_ Elsa can turn the tables so suddenly.

Elsa runs a hand up Anna’s cheek, cupping it gently. And her smile, just as much so. “That was easier than I thought it would be,” she says.

Anna blinks. “I… I let you do it.”

“Mhmm.” Elsa leans in to peck the tip of the redhead’s nose. “If you say so,” and then she moves in for another kiss, this time on Anna’s lips.

 _Oh, whatever._ Elsa can have this one. Anna mentally tells herself that it’s not often the blonde gets to top her, so, yeah. No matter. Her arms come up to wrap themselves around Elsa’s lithe body, which is around the time she realizes that the girl’s upper body is very much exposed.

And that her soft, _very bare_ breasts are pressing against her chest.

This is distracting as hell. She wants to look down, but she also wants to keep on kissing Elsa. _Ahh—_ what can she do?! Her confusion and frustration bundle into an odd desire that is somehow being expressed by her hands. They wander around Elsa’s back, brushing at her shoulder blades, that spine, the curves—and when Anna reaches low enough to _grab Elsa’s—_

“Anna…” the girl croaks, clearly winded from all the kissing.

“Hm?” Anna hums before reaching up to reconnect their lips.

“You’re…” _kiss,_ “… going…” _kiss,_ “… to be late…”

“Mhmm,” their kisses don’t stop. They’re just light, gentle pecks, never bordering on anything too explicit. But Anna can’t get enough. “Just a bit more,” she whispers. Anna doesn’t do anything inappropriate. Her hands at Elsa’s bottom slide back up to the small of the girl’s back. She enjoys so much to feel the dips and the bumps of Elsa’s body. The sheer simplicity of feeling Elsa’s skin. And so her fingers just trace along—up that spine, to those same shoulder blades, where she stops to massage.

“You’re not listening…” Elsa moans into their kiss.

Not to brag, but to be able to leave such an impact on this girl is nothing short of flattering. Anna is quite proud of herself, but she certainly doesn’t want to push it, though. Making Elsa feel good is something that she’ll always strive to do, and so she will do just that.

One more kiss.

“Okay,” Anna smiles when she flops back down onto the pillow. “Last one.”

Elsa smiles back, and it is the warmest, most wonderful thing ever. She rolls off Anna and wraps herself back in the duvet.

Anna sits on the edge of the bed to fix her hair. She turns back to see, of course, Elsa, still looking at her lovingly. Like she’s a work of art or something. _God._ It makes her feel so good.

“You should get up soon as well, Elsa. Don’t you have class at nine?”

“I do, yes,” Elsa lets out a yawn. “Where’s my phone…?”

“Oh, it’s—” Anna reaches for the nightstand, “—right here. I got all your clothes in my bathroom as well. Laid out a new towel and toothbrush for you.”

Elsa takes the phone from the redhead, the corners of her lips arch up, and she blushes prettily. “Thank you.” Elsa says, and then she swipes at her phone, unlocking it.

There’s this unspoken intimacy. It’s that same familiarity— _domesticity,_ rather, that Anna felt, back when they were stranded up on the mountain. Back when they weren’t anything. Well, _yet._ When Anna would shoot subtle glances at the blonde as she prepared food for her, as she was cleaning up near the sink, as they spent their idle time sitting on the couch, marathoning through random shows on Netflix. It’s these quiet moments that Anna finds solace in—where she feels the happiest.

“Alright, Elsa. I really gotta go,” Anna stands. She puts on her backpack. “I’ll leave you my keys right here. Just lock the door when you leave the house, okay? You should hurry, it’s already close to eight. Might take you a while to get ready and eat _and_ go up the mountain.” 

“Mmn,” Elsa nods. She curls back up in bed and smiles tenderly at Anna. “I think I don’t actually have to go up today.”

Anna tilts her head.

Elsa shows the younger girl the screen of her phone. “Class cancelled. My prof says he’s sick, which means I get to stay in bed.”

“What!”

The blonde beams, her grin going all the way up to her eyes.

“Man, that’s _so_ not fair!”

“With that being said,” Elsa closes her eyes. “If you really don’t need a ride from me, I’m going to be sleeping in. Haven’t done this for a while.”

It’s Anna’s turn to roll her eyes. She’s not mad at all, per se; it amuses her how college professors can just call of a day like that. If anything, she’s actually glad that Elsa finally has some time off. Poor girl has been working herself to death for the past few weeks.

“Don’t need a ride,” Anna affirms. She comes close enough, bearing a similar smile to Elsa’s, and kisses her on the forehead. “Because I’m so kind that I’m going to let you sleep like a pig.”

Elsa giggles. “Get going already.”

“I am, I am. You just keep distracting me,” Anna makes her way out her room.

“Hey,”

She turns when she is at the door.

Elsa is lying on her side, her hair now brushed to the back, and while the rest of her body is wrapped snugly under that comfortable duvet that smells so much of Anna, a bare arm is left uncovered. She’s like a freaking goddess lying in bed. _Her_ bed.

“I…” she hesitates, pinkness spreads all over her cheeks again as she finds the words. Eventually, “… I’ll cook for you tonight, okay?”

Anna smiles. “Okay,” she says. And, just as she closes the door behind her, she brings enough confidence to say it out— “Love you.”

Which makes Elsa jump a little. She curls up even more in the bed, looking so damn vulnerable and. _Just. Ahh—_

“… I love you, too.”

It takes every fibre of her being to hold herself back; whether it be breaking down into tears of joy, the desire to dive into the bed and kiss Elsa everywhere, it doesn’t matter. The literal embodiment of happiness just burst in her chest and Anna can’t stop grinning.

And it takes several moments before she can actually bring herself to close the door behind her, and she has to thank all gods in the existence of the universe for granting her the power to walk down the stairs without tripping. Because, like, her legs are jelly.

The things that Elsa does to her. _God._

See? She’s still smiling.

Anna can’t deny how simultaneously wonderful and silly it makes her feel as she heads out of the house.

* * *

Classes went by relatively smoothly. A couple of stares here and there from what happened in the hallway yesterday, but nothing Anna can’t handle. In fact, it seems like she’s getting fewer proclamations of love disguised as following requests and private messages. As of today, about one hundred percent of those messages are something about how she and Elsa look super cute together. So, yeah. It’s making her feel quite good.

The comments, “Looks like you had a good time last night,” or, “So did you get laid?” and, “How do you still have the energy today?” from the boys as she passes them by in the hallway are eye-roll-inducing, though. Because, one: she _did_ have a good time; two: she _did_ get laid; and three: she still has the energy because she’s not some sex-crazed, hormonal loser. God, no. She may certainly think like one at times, but nope. Totally normal seventeen-year-old right here. What she did with Elsa last night has revamped her, in a way? Invigorated her? Something like that.

“You’re radiating,” comes her best friend’s voice at lunch time.

Anna, currently hogging up the area where they usually occupy in the cafeteria, grunts before she even turns to Rapunzel, “Come on, not you too— _holy crap,_ what are these dark circles under your eyes?”

The golden-blonde responds with an exaggerated yawn. She covers her mouth with a hand, tears emphasizing the fatigue in her eyes as she flops down to the seat next to Anna. “I think I can fall asleep on the spot.” Rapunzel sighs more so than says.

“You look dreadful.”

“I believe _undead_ is more accurate.”

Seeing how Rapunzel has no will to move, Anna reaches into her friend’s bag. “Where’s your lunch?”

“I forgot to pack it this morning because I slept in a little.” Rapunzel says into her arms.

“My god.” Anna takes her sandwich and rips it in half. “Here, have some of mine.”

Rapunzel shakes her head. Well, more she just squirms a little, like a child refusing to wake up from her sleep. “Not hungry.” She mumbles.

“Well, you have to eat,” Anna argues. She shoves Rapunzel’s arm a few times, stirring her awake. “Come on. You probably didn’t even eat breakfast, yeah?”

Rapunzel squirms again. Anna easily interprets that as a _no._ She sighs and fishes a juice box out of her bag. “Okay, at least have a bit to drink. Sugar will keep you awake.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way…” Rapunzel finally sits up.

“Better than having nothing in your stomach all day. Come on.”

Anna watches intently as her friend reaches for that drink. How her fingers tremble, how they struggle to get the straw out of the plastic wrap, and how she fails on multiple times to poke that straw into the aluminum seal, and, most tragically, how the girl seems to have fallen asleep before she can even take a sip. Anna clucks her tongue, feeling slightly guilty for not realizing how tired her friend has been as of late. What Rapunzel has mentioned before—what was it? _Dicks before chicks?_ Anna argued that Elsa doesn’t have a dick—or would _hoes before bros_ be more applicable? Actually, what the hell. Rapunzel isn’t a bro, and Elsa certainly isn’t a hoe.

What is she even talking about anymore?

_Anyway!_

The concept remains; she has been neglecting her friend. Admittedly, every waking moment since she’s laid eyes on Elsa, Anna hasn’t been hanging out with Rapunzel. Wait, actually—Rapunzel hasn’t been asking to hang out _at all._ The last time they’ve gone out was… wow. Before Christmas, with Mulan, when Anna wanted to get something for Elsa. Jeez, that was long ago. They technically didn’t even ‘hang out’ that day; they just dispersed immediately after they met up.

So, in conclusion, knowing Rapunzel, she’s just been busying herself with things so that she wouldn’t bother Anna. And as her best friend, Anna knows very well how Rapunzel’s dedication to things can get overboard at times. It’s no wonder she looks so tired now. 

Perhaps it’s time to rectify that?

She places a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Hey,” Anna shakes her a little. “Maybe you want to lie down in the nurse’s office for a bit? I’m sure if you say that you’re not feeling well, she’d let you.”

“And take a, what? Twenty-minute nap? No. No, thank you.” Rapunzel says, yawning as she does. “I’d rather pass out in my own bed. But I still…” another yawn, “… still gotta pick up some spare strings at the music store.”

“Strings?”

Rapunzel forces herself to sit up this time. She blinks several times, rubbing her eyes furiously. “My teacher and I just found out that one of the songs I’ve been practicing for isn’t included in the criteria of the exam anymore. I have to memorize a whole new one. Played a bit too much and I snapped a string.”

“What the—is that even possible?” Anna gawks.

She gives a weak nod. “Happens quite a bit. Don’t be surprised.”

“Okay…” Anna says as she imagines her friend literally sawing the bow at the violin—somewhat of a comedic scene, but since she knows absolutely nothing about the musical instrument, she can’t picture any other reason the violin strings would break. “Um. Do you—you’re not planning on going there on your own in this state, are you?”

Rapunzel is once again hiding in her arms. Snoring a little.

Anna just shakes her head. It’s decided. Whether Rapunzel likes it or not, she is going with her to the store. Can’t risk having her friend pass out in the middle of the road. What if she gets mugged or something?

She takes out her phone and scrolls to Elsa’s name and begins to type. _‘Hey, I’m going with Rapunzel to pick up something for her violin. I think I’ll be coming home a bit later.’_

The reply is instant, and Anna knows for a fact that it’s because Elsa isn’t in class. _‘Okay,’_ comes the message. _‘I’m sorry, I would offer to come pick you up, but I have to meet up with Eugene. The professor cancelled the class, but it turns out he assigned this big project due next week. I don’t know how long it’s going to take…’_

 _‘Oh, wow,’_ Anna types, ‘ _You’re gonna meet up with him, then?’_

_‘Yeah… probably at a Starbucks or something. I’m about to head out now.’_

Anna replies with a sad emoji.

_‘And, Anna, I’m a bit embarrassed to ask…’_

Oh, Elsa. Always so formal, she thinks with a smile. _‘Yes?’_

_‘May I borrow something to wear? The dress yesterday is a bit too, um…’_

Yes. _Yes._ Elsa is freaking right. She hasn’t even finished, but Anna knows. That dress is meant for her. As in, Elsa wore it for _Anna._ It’s also way too beautiful and elegant and sexy. Whomsoever is seen with Elsa when she is wearing that dress is automatically identified as her date. Because. It is what it is. The most beautiful, elegant, and the sexiest dress. So, no. Nobody but Anna can be seen with Elsa when the latter wears that dress.

She types the fastest ‘ _yes’_ she has ever typed in her life and adds, _‘Take anything from my drawers.’_ Send. _‘Your cardigan isn’t enough for the weather today—I have some coats that will fit you in my closet.’_ Send. _‘Oh, and are your ankles okay? Don’t wear your heels again, you’ll open the wounds.’_ Send. _‘You can borrow my new sneakers… the white ones? They’re still in the box, also in the closet. I think my shoe size is the same as yours? So they should fit.’_ Send. _‘Let me know if you need anything, okay?’_

Once she is done, she scrolls up her texts and tries to think of anything she’s missing. Halfway up, however, the chat jumps back down to a new message.

_‘You’re being overly attentive, aren’t you? ;)’_

The winking face. _Ugh,_ that face. It went right into her heart. Anna bites back a laugh. _‘Just trying to impress you.’_

 _‘Well, I am very much impressed.’_ Elsa’s message reads. _‘Anyway, I’m going to get ready. I’m only wrapped in a towel as I’m texting you.’_

…

 _Uh._ The redhead blinks. She looks up, at the people coming and going in the cafeteria. Looks around, at Rapunzel, who is still sleeping. Looks back down, at Elsa’s text. Looks up again. Blinks.

Can she be blamed that she’s imagining it?

Elsa. Soaked. Wrapped in a towel. Droplets of water, clinging on her white gold hair, only to fall with gravity, slowly running down her immaculate, pale skin. The droplets roll lower, over Elsa’s shoulders. Lower. They run over the bump of her collarbones, and then they slip between her _breasts—_

_Bzz bzz_

Anna jolts, and then she looks down again.

_‘I’ll talk to you later, then?’_

She blinks. _Jesus Christ,_ Elsa told her that for the sake of _telling her!_ Not for any other reason.

 _‘Yeah,’_ she types with shaky fingers, trying hard to come up with something mature to say. _‘Don’t overwork yourself.’_

For that, she gets a simple smiley face as a response. Several moments go by, and Anna realizes that she’s been overly stiff for the past… several minutes? She leans back, rubbing at her temples with a hand, and wonders if she can ever stop thinking so much like a child.

* * *

Luckily for Rapunzel, her last two periods were electives, meaning she didn’t have to pay particular attention to them. Which was why she was able to take the opportunity to nap. No wonder she refused to go to the nurse’s office. Understandably, the girl would never want to tarnish her perfect attendance.

Immediately when the final bell rings, they pack their things and head on the bus. Anna herself has never wandered into an instrument store on her free time, nor can she remotely name where the closest one is in town, so she’s really just following her friend. Turns out there is one nearby in a mall. While Rapunzel browses through the ‘strings’ collection in the store, Anna takes the time to look at the myriad of items there. If she were any younger, she would be swinging at the drum sets, or she would be embarrassing herself with the sample grand pianos on display— _but._ She’s not a kid. Anna can handle not fiddling with stuff for a bit.

Instead, she looks through collections of classical sheet music, recognizing only a few names on the covers. Y’know. The typical ones like Beethoven, Debussy, Bach. _Aaaand_ that’s about it. Losing interest in those has been the fastest thing that has happened to Anna in her life. Probably faster than her falling in love with chocolate. Her attention then drifts towards the CDs nearby. Again, more classical music. Elsa would probably like this stuff.

“What are you doing?” comes Rapunzel’s voice as she approaches.

“No idea. Just looking at this stuff, I guess.” Anna shrugs. She picks up a random case from the pile. “Do people really still purchase CDs when you can just YouTube the music?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rapunzel explains. “Some of these renditions and covers can’t be found online. Also, you can still buy them for collection’s sake.”

Anna nods in agreement.

“Has… Elsa never told you about this?”

“Hm?” Anna blinks. “Told me what?”

Rapunzel quirks a brow. “About, y’know. Music and stuff.”

“Uh, no. Not really.”

The golden-blonde gapes. “You mean to say that you’ve never heard her play the piano?”

“No…” Anna’s eyes dart left and right. Rapunzel’s asking as though she’s committed a crime or something.

“Oookay.” Rapunzel’s eyes bulge as she says that. “Should ask her to play for you some time. You’d be amazed.” She walks off. “I’m gonna pay for my stuff. You can wait for me outside.”

“Okay.” Anna responds. _Weird._ Rapunzel can get quite pushy at times, but she never spoke so, _hm,_ passive-aggressively? Then again, Anna does know that Elsa loves her music; she also knows that Elsa is talented as hell with the piano. To what degree, though, she’s never truly delved into it. Is she a bad girlfriend for not caring? Sure, she’s mildly interested, but it’s not the end of the world if she’s never heard Elsa play, right?

_Bzz bzz_

Anna sits at one of those benches that is typically occupied by _boyfriends-accompanying-their-girlfriends-to-malls_ directly outside the store. Except, like, she sits a bit more elegantly than those guys. She takes out her phone before crossing a leg over the other one.

_‘Hey, I’m about to wrap up. Where are you right now?’_

A smile forms on Anna’s lips. _‘At the mall near the school. Rapunzel’s just picked up what she needs.’_

_‘Oh? I’m at the mall, as well! At the Starbucks near the west entrance.’_

Rapunzel, in the meantime, emerges from the store as she shoves whatever she’s bought into her backpack. Anna gestures for her friend to come her way as she replies Elsa with one hand, _‘In that case, I’ll come meet you. Stay put!’_

“I think I’m set,” says Rapunzel as she walks up to Anna. “Gonna go home and restring my violin, and… get back to practicing.” The last part comes out in a tired sigh.

Anna knows better than to tell the girl to relax, because that’s just crap advice. Hell, it isn’t an advice at all. Rapunzel would just glare at her for saying something so pointless. So, instead, Anna places a hand on her shoulder. “Elsa’s nearby. We can have her drive you home? It should save you some time.”

The golden-blonde blinks. “Is that okay? It wouldn’t inconvenience her, would it?”

Wow. Yes, Rapunzel is the kindest girl, ever, but has she always spoken this politely? Certainly not to her, no. Whenever Anna offers something to Rapunzel, she would take it right away. And vice versa. There is no hesitation between the two, ever. So it’s kind of weird to have Rapunzel acting so respectfully. Then again, Anna isn’t the driver—she’s just speaking in Elsa’s place, so. It’s probably why she’s being so apprehensive.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Anna assures. “Elsa wouldn’t mind. She’s the nicest person ever. Come on.”

Rapunzel follows along. “That, I know. It’s just… I dunno. It seems kind of surreal to be getting a ride from a celebrity.”

Anna lets out a breath of amusement. “What are you talking about? Elsa’s just a normal person. Sure, she’s pretty and talented and smart, but a celebrity?”

It’s Rapunzel’s turn to laugh. “Oh, Anna,” she shakes her head. “You never got around to come visit the music room, have you?”

“Um,” she swallows, feeling a bit guilty. Rapunzel has told her once before to visit during rehearsal, but… _yeah._ What even is the correlation between Elsa being a celebrity and the music room, anyway? Doesn’t matter, not important. “Been busy.” She finally answers.

“Uh huh.” Her friend gives her a sarcastic eye-roll. When they arrive at the Starbucks, Rapunzel is the one to spot Elsa first. “Hey, she’s over there.”

Anna follows the golden-blonde’s gaze and sees Elsa, sitting with Eugene at a square table near the window. Their laptops are laid out in front of them, and they seem to be packing up the papers scattered across the table.

Just to put it out there, Anna would most definitely have called out to her girlfriend from across the mall if she had to, but the thing is… she’s thoroughly distracted right now. Because, _um._ Elsa’s… she’s—

“Aren’t those your clothes, Anna?”

 _Yes, Rapunzel,_ Anna wants to say. They sure are. Anna gave Elsa her full consent to wear anything she wants in her collection, but she couldn’t have known how, even in the most casual and boyish clothing, Elsa can still manage to look so gorgeous. _Like, look at her!_ The green, oversized boyfriend flannel Anna wears on lazy days makes her look like a complete mess. But when Elsa wears it? _Oh, god._ Picturesque. That t-shirt with the stupid _“finish each other’s”_ quote and a cartoon sandwich? Anna wears that to sleep at times because it looks so childish, but on Elsa? It’s like some Hypebeast design. And even though Elsa is wearing those black leggings that are evidently way too short for her, there’s just something about her being in Anna’s clothes that makes the latter feel so…

_Possessive?_

_In charge?_

Like… like she _owns her?_ Ugh. What the hell. That's just weird, what _nonsensical—_

“Anna?” Elsa stands from her seat, bearing that bright smile Anna adores so much.

And her breath hitches.

“Come on, Anna,” Rapunzel says quietly as she nudges her on the elbow. “Stop daydreaming.”

Anna’s eyelids flutter. She follows her best friend towards the table, and (thank god for this because she’s completely dumbfounded right now) Eugene speaks up before she can register what has just happened.

“Long time, Anna.” He greets with that stupid-looking smoulder of his.

Which is about enough to bring Anna back to reality. She smiles, “It sure has. How have you been, lately?”

“Oh, you know,” Eugene shrugs. “Spreading my charms everywhere I go. Nothing new.”

“Is that so?” Anna laughs. On any other day, she would love to have a chat with the guy, but she knows that Rapunzel is in a hurry. No time for idle talk. Time to speed this up without being too rude. “Oh, yeah. This is my friend, Rapunzel,” she gestures at the girl. “Rapunzel, meet Eugene. He’s a friend of Elsa’s. A business major—really knows his stuff. Gave me a ton of university advices.”

The male stands from his seat and straightens his shirt. He reaches a hand out towards the golden-blonde. “Nice to meet you,” he says with an effortless smile.

In the corner of her eyes, Anna sees Rapunzel say the same before taking Eugene’s hand. Anna doesn’t know for sure—her eyes are involuntarily gravitating towards Elsa. It’s out of her control. She’s also utterly amused by the fact that Elsa seems to be so fascinated by the two’s interaction. Ironic, because Anna herself is fascinated by _Elsa’s_ reactions. The way she’s smiling so adorably, like she’s anticipating something.

 _What could it possibly be?_ Anna wonders, bearing a gentle smile herself.

As if her question were audible, in that same moment, Elsa’s gaze connects with Anna’s. Then, very methodically, the blonde pours in some kind of telepathic power to her; blue eyes squinting and twitching and bulging—to an outsider, Elsa may look silly, almost like she’s having a seizure or something—but eventually, Anna understands.

As subtly as possible, she turns, millimetre by millimetre, towards her best friend and Eugene.

“… but I’m not so sure just yet,” Rapunzel says. “The NMU business faculty is quite good though, I heard, which is why I applied to it first thing.”

“Yeah, it is! It’s exactly why I transferred over, to be honest. There are a bunch of backstabbers, but you look like you can handle a few idiots.” Eugene says with genuine enthusiasm.

It makes Rapunzel giggle, and although for the entire day, she sounds and looks dreadful, Anna notes that as of right now, her friend looks rather… radiant? Lively. Relaxed. It most certainly doesn’t make Anna feel so bad, anymore. Rapunzel looks as though she’s re-energized, like she has the ability to go out and play a solo for hours on.

_Oh. Ohhhhh._

So, that’s what it is.

Anna bites on her lip to resist a smirk. With the same subtlety, she glances at Elsa again.

Who is also holding back on a smile of some kind.

And then the two have yet another telepathic connection—an agreement. And, with that, Anna finds an opening to speak up, “Hey, Rapunzel, how about you sit for a while? I’ll get you a coffee before we head home. I’m sure you’ll be needing something to stay awake.”

She gets a light chuckle as response. “I stand when I play the violin, Anna. Do you think I’d just collapse mid-practice?” Rapunzel’s chuckle becomes a gentle laughter, and she covers her mouth with a dainty hand. “But you’re right. I should get something to help me stay awake. I’ll get it myself, though, thanks. Do you mind waiting a bit?”

“I’ll come with you,” Eugene stands from his seat.

Very, _very_ visibly, Rapunzel smiles as her cheeks become tinted in a slight pink. Anna likes to point out that Rapunzel only blushes when she is praised, excited, or extremely happy. And, _mind you,_ she is quite adorable when that happens. Especially when her deep emerald eyes just glimmer with the brightness that reflects from her golden hair. Not that Anna is trying to pimp out her best friend or anything— _she’s not even saying this out loud!—_ but Rapunzel is, in fact, really pretty.

“We’ll watch your stuff, Eugene,” Elsa says, then she turns to the redhead. “Anna, will you help me pack up, please?”

“Yeah, of course,” Anna says easily, turning her back on Eugene and Rapunzel to hide her smirk that is finally showing.

“Okay, we’ll be right back,” says Eugene. “After you,” he says to Rapunzel, guiding her in kind with an arm.

Anna is sure that she hears another giggle before they walk off.

Once they are no longer in the vicinity, Anna plops right down onto the seat next to Elsa. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks as she clutches onto Elsa’s arm, shaking it eagerly. Her smirk has become a very obvious grin by now.

Elsa, likewise, is smiling. “I wouldn’t have done what I just did if I weren’t thinking what you’re thinking.”

“Smartass.” Anna pouts playfully. She looks towards the lineup to the counter. It’s going to take a while, considering the line. So it should be plenty of time for those two to bond.

“You know, I used to think that Eugene was gay.”

“ _What?”_ Anna chokes out a laugh.

“I mean,” Elsa continues, “I’ve never seen him with a girl. He was always nice to people around him, but he never showed interest in taking relationships further. He only ever hangs out with boys. So, this is something new,” she looks towards the two. “They look cute together, don’t they?”

“Yep,” Anna nods. And then she turns to the blonde, wriggling her eyebrows as she comes in to whisper in her ear, “Not as cute as you in my clothes, though.”

Instantly, Elsa’s face turns bright red. She shoves the girl away. “A-Anna!”

“But you are!” Anna argues through her laughter. “I’m just telling the truth!”

The blonde puckers up her lower lip. She occupies herself by finishing up with her packing, where she slips the rest of her papers into a folder and back into her bag. Anna thinks it’s a sin how cute this girl looks when she’s angry. _God,_ she wants so much to just throw her arms around Elsa. But they’re in public and it would only make Elsa uncomfortable and Anna should really have some self-control and it’s… _ugh!_

“Anna?”

“Hm?” she responds.

Elsa brushes a strand of hair behind her ear—a gesture of nervousness, Anna thinks.

“I… I was wondering if you wanted to bake a cake together tonight,” she offers in the softest voice ever. The ambience of the music in the shop can almost cover up what Elsa just said.

But Anna heard it. She hears everything so as long as it comes from Elsa. “What gave you the idea?” Anna asks, closing the distance to rest her chin on Elsa’s shoulder.

“You did so much for me yesterday…” she starts, in the same, soft, shy voice. “I just wanted to top you.”

Anna giggles. “You _. You_ want to top _me_?”

Elsa eyelids bat in confusion. Several moments pass. _Tick-tock, tick-tock._ Even the music changes. And then finally, _finally,_ the hidden meaning becomes apparent. Elsa gasps—her body tenses, and her eyes become so wide Anna thinks they’d fall right out of their sockets. “Oh, I—I’m…! I didn’t…!”

“Okay,” Anna teases. She comes in close again, whispering into Elsa’s ear, _“… If you impress me with that cake, then I’ll let you do it.”_

Another gasp. Takes a hot minute, but eventually, Elsa finds the will to look Anna in the eye.

It’s a determined, unwavering, and irrevocably _intense_ look.

And for the rest of the day, even as they say goodbye to Eugene, even as Elsa drives Rapunzel home, and even as they get back to Anna’s house, Elsa is _beet_ red _._

… whether or not Anna kept to her word that night, however, she will never say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i actually searched "anna/elsa's 3 sizes" to check if their clothes would fit each other :facepalm:  
> the "plot" for otherworldly will come in soon, don't worry lol
> 
> it's also time i go back to aphelion, so brb!!


	18. Chapter 18

The pen spins between her index and middle finger. Dinitrogen tetroxide… or N2O4, whatever, decomposing to form two moles of NO2 gas… _blah, blah, blah,_ and then change it into one mole of N2O4 gas, meaning the reaction is written out to be forward or in reverse, which all depends on the conditions. Forward reaction. Molecules colliding, joining. Reverse reaction. _Blah, blah._ A couple more equations and she’s about done with studying. The unit test is tomorrow, and she’s quite confident that she’ll get a good mark. This unit is nowhere as difficult as structure and properties of matter. At least for this unit, she can solve things; the former is all about memorizing, and she hates that.

She and Elsa have occupied the dining room, using the table as a studying space of sorts. Elsa has her midterms, and Anna has her fair share of tests coming up; the house is warm, there are snack and drinks at their disposal; it’s also quiet, so they’ve decided to set up their battle station here.

Anna spins her pen again, flipping through the final few pages of worksheets. It’s getting harder to concentrate—her stomach’s been growling for the past hour or so. God, she’s getting hungry. What should she have for lunch? What would Elsa like to have? She should ask.

Anna raises her head. “Hey, Elsa—”

A squeak.

She blinks. Anna swears; that was kind of trippy. She caught her girlfriend’s eyes on her briefly—just for a hint of a second—but as soon as their gazes connect, Elsa shirked and looked away like she’s caught cheating on a test or something.

Did that really just happen?

Elsa, on her part, as hard as she is trying, isn’t being subtle at all. Her eyes are on her textbook, she’s scribbling madly into her notebook, but it is so obvious that she’s freaking out.

Which is why, very naturally, Anna finds herself smirking. “Elsa…”

The girl in question continues to try—to react naturally, like she wasn’t caught shooting glances at Anna. Though, her attempt seems to be in vain. “Y-yes?” she stammers, meeting Anna’s playful gaze once again.

She grins. “Were you staring at me?”

Elsa, Anna has learned, really sucks at lying. Like, her entire face just turns red; she starts looking to the right (which, according to research—though Anna’s pretty sure it’s been debunked—means that a person isn’t being truthful); she starts stuttering, and shyness takes over her entire being. Simply put, Elsa is way too pure to hide secrets.

And so, it is a hundred percent a lie when Elsa answers with a quiet, “… no.”

Anna rests an elbow on the table, placing her chin over her palm. “Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Elsa answers, or, more like she _argues,_ childishly so.

At this point, Anna can’t contain the giggle. “You definitely were staring,” she accuses. “It’s okay, y’know? I won’t judge.”

The blonde’s cheeks redden. She starts pouting, revealing how mildly frustrated she’s getting, and then she explains, straight up admitting, “I-I was just…” or, more like _argues_. Same thing, “I’ve never seen you look so serious before.”

Anna’s eyelids flutter.

“You were really…” Elsa continues, still looking away as her voice gets increasingly quiet, “… cute.”

_Huh?_

She’s at a loss for words. Legit. Anna’s jaw hangs loose. She just stares at Elsa, still pouting. Elsa, now fiddling with her fingers. Elsa, cheeks completely red. Coincidentally, Anna thinks that she herself looks just as flustered, because nobody has told her she looked cute in such a _cute_ way before! Like, who does that?! Who calls another person _cute_ while looking _cute_ themselves?! God, only Elsa can do something like this and get away with it. Just— _god!_ This is not fair! Atrocious!

“So you—” Anna’s voice cracks. She clears her throat quickly, barely managing to stop herself from stammering, “—erm. Y-you were checking me out?”

“I… I was just…!” Elsa dips her head even lower. She looks impossibly small in her seat. “Please don’t say it like that…”

 _Ahh, she can’t!_ Elsa’s too much. She’s not human. Seriously. Elsa’s a freaking saint. But, like, a cute saint. So… a baby? Oh! _Baby saint!_ Anna’s heart throbs and she wants to scream and run right over to hug this baby and kiss her and never let go…!

“I’m sorry if that seemed inappropriate. I’ll… I won’t do it again if it bothers you.”

Wait— “No, what? I never said it bothered me.”

“But you look so disturbed…”

‘I’m not! I’m just… I’m—”

“Sorry,” Elsa says softly. “Let’s pretend that never happened, okay?”

She gawks. Anna wants to pull her hair out. Seriously, this girl. She’s a handful sometimes. She’s like an alien. Okay, there you go. She’s a baby alien saint. Doesn’t make much sense, but it’s the best description that Anna has of Elsa. Completely loveable and weird in the most adorable way. Despite being together for some time now, there are still so many sides of Elsa that Anna has yet to see. This being the primary example, Elsa actually thinks that Anna would get _disturbed_ from being stared at? How ridiculous is that? Going back to that model analogy Anna likes so much, it’s like if a model walking on a runway stopped to admire someone sitting in the crowd mid-show. That person would most likely be flattered as hell, right?

Okay _,_ well, maybe there is a certain degree of creepiness in it, _but!_ The whole point is! If a completely drop-dead-gorgeous-beautiful-goddess stopped to admire her, she would _gladly_ stay still to get admired. It’s just… because it’s never happened before, okay?! That’s why she’s so taken aback! Jeez, Elsa just has to make everything so complicated, doesn’t she? Anna’s the one who’s usually stealing glances. Anna’s the one who does the admiring. Why is Elsa even bothering to look at her in such a way? Anna knows she’s _okay_ looking; like, she’s been told by her parents and friends a few times, but has Elsa seen the marvel that is _Elsa?_

She digresses.

Anyway, whatever. This isn’t about her. This is about Elsa. This girl needs to realize how okay (and then some) it is to stare at her own girlfriend.

She takes a deep breath. Elsa’s still over there, across the table, looking all lost and confused, but Anna’s determined to let the girl know just _what the hell_ she is to her. Anna takes a deep breath. With confidence, she stands up, almost with so much force that she’d almost knocked back the chair she’s sitting on and makes her way around the table to kneel down next to Elsa.

“I’m not disturbed in any way. Not one bit,” Anna says softly, taking Elsa’s hands into her own and smiles. “In fact, I think I’m quite lucky to have someone as gorgeous as yourself checking me out.”

Elsa’s look of concern doesn’t fade. In fact, what Anna just said seems to have made her even more concerned.

“You can look at me whenever you want, Elsa.”

The blonde worries her bottom lip. Her inner brows risen, she starts with the most delicate voice, “Are you sure?”

Anna grins. “It would give me a huge confidence boost the next time I catch you secretly looking at me.”

Elsa pauses, as if considering her words. Eventually, their eyes find one another, and the older of the two bobs her head a little. “Okay,” she says. Elsa brings her hand up to Anna’s cheek, stroking it tenderly with the backs of two fingers. She plants a kiss on Anna’s forehead as a way of affirming their new deal.

Which makes Anna giggle in response.

“Are you hungry yet?” Elsa asks.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Anna smirks, “… until I caught you checking me out.”

Another pout. Elsa straight up _huffs_ this time and attempts to shove the redhead away. “I don’t like the way you’re putting it.”

“Aw,” Anna moves in to rest her chin on Elsa’s chest. “Does it make you angry?” she purposely raises her voice a few pitches higher to make it seem as though she’s talking to a baby.

Which, unsurprisingly, doesn’t lighten Elsa’s mood one bit. “Go away.”

“But, _Elsaaaa_ …” Anna circles her arms around the girl’s waist, hugging her close.

“L-let go. I need to study.”

“I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Elsa’s cheeks are puffed up; it’s her trademark way of showing annoyance. “I was asking if you did.”

Anna quirks a brow. So, she low-key, kind of _did_ piss her off after all, huh? No worries. Nothing she can’t fix. Elsa is very patient; she is even more tolerant. Anna is a tease, but Elsa seems to embrace it. At times, she would straight up get bullied (jokingly, of course—Anna would never hurt Elsa), but a few hugs and tickles here and there, everything would go back to normal. It’s the same case here. Anna holds Elsa tighter, practically entrapping the girl in her arms, and then she nuzzles her face into Elsa’s neck.

“Anna!” the girl squeaks, squirming to push the redhead away.

See? It works wonders.

“ _Num-num-num.”_

“S… stop!” Elsa giggles. “What are you doing…!”

“I’m hungry.” Anna mumbles into her skin. She’s really just nibbling lightly, but it’s probably ticklish as hell based on how Elsa’s reacting. Her hands find their way beneath Elsa’s sweater, where she runs along the blonde’s spine—up, up, until she reaches the clasp of her bra. Anna toys with it for a bit, grazing the pads of her fingers on the metal clip. Very innocently, she glances up at Elsa, who, at this point, is just completely dazed.

Half-lidded eyes with that purple eyeshadow; deep, parted, rosy lips, flushed cheeks and everything. Always so adorable. Always so seductive.

Anna doesn’t move. She doesn’t push. She waits for a response. Her fingers stroke delicately at that bra strap, and she keeps her gaze on the blonde, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Anna…” Elsa whispers in understanding. She pulls her hands in to frame Anna’s face, her thumbs drawing small circles on the redhead’s freckled cheeks. “… Really? Now?”

“Do you not want to?”

“Mm…” her thought process is audible. Elsa’s cerulean eyes dart to the corners, too embarrassed to face Anna directly. “H-how about… tonight? When you’ve finished studying.”

She smiles, slipping her hands out of Elsa’s shirt and straightens it. But then she still keeps her arms wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let go. “You can always reject me, y’know? Don’t need to bribe me with sex. I’m not as perverted as I was before. Learned to control my hormones and everything.”

“Did you really, now?” Elsa questions playfully.

“Sure, I did.” Anna proclaims with a proud smirk. “For example,” she stands right up, distancing herself from Elsa by taking a few steps back, “See?”

“So… staying away from me equates to you controlling your… hormones…?”

Anna blinks. “Well—” _okay,_ when she puts it that way. Damn. There is no excuse. Anna really is just a perverted teenaged boy, after all. “I mean, like. It’s an accomplishment.”

It’s Elsa’s turn to raise a brow.

“I used to…” she hesitates. Should she tell Elsa? Yeah, no. Anna should totally disregard her own advice and let this go. It’s not that important, anyway. She takes a deep breath. “So!” Anna clasps her hands together. “What should we have for lunch?”

Elsa just stares at her suspiciously. Uh-oh. Looks like dropping the subject isn’t going to be as easy as she thought—

_Bzz bzz bzz_

Oh, thank you— _thank god._ The subject can be avoided, for now. Anna reaches over the table to grab her phone. Rapunzel _. Thank you, Rapunzel!_

“Hello?” she picks up.

 _“Anna?”_ comes her best friend’s voice. _“Hey, what are you doing right now?”_

She looks to her pile of worksheets, notes, and that single textbook. “I was studying for chem. About to take a break to get something to eat. What’s up?”

 _“Okay, good! Do you, um…”_ the girl pauses. _“Do you want to come out and have lunch? With me and… Eugene?”_

“What?!” Anna shrieks unnecessarily loudly, which, in turn, makes Elsa jump. Seeing this, Anna gestures for Elsa to scoot over in her seat. She sits down, turning the phone on speaker and holds it in front of them. “What do you mean _with Eugene?”_

Elsa gasps in surprise, but she covers her mouth to suppress the sound.

_“I-I mean what I just said! He asked me if I wanted to have lunch with him…”_

“Hold on a sec. Back up,” Anna says. “You two are seeing each other already?!”

 _“We aren’t seeing each other!”_ Rapunzel cries.

“Then how did it escalate so quickly? Last I saw, you two were just getting coffee together.”

_“Well, he got me coffee that time, so I said that I would get him a drink the next time we met up. We exchanged our numbers and we’ve been talking for a few days now, and. Just. One thing led to another, and now he’s asking me to go out for lunch…”_

“Out for— _Rapunzel!_ He’s asking you out! He’s totally asking you out!” Anna can’t contain her grin. She starts shaking Elsa far too enthusiastically. She’s got to channel away her happiness somehow. “Why would you want me to third-wheel?!”

_“Because… I-I don’t know! I’ve never gone out with anyone!”_

“Okay, just—” Anna can’t help but to let out a choked laugh, and Elsa, being the sweetheart that she is, swats her on the shoulder. Anna gives her a _what-the-heck-was-that-for_ look, and Elsa responds by pointing at the phone, mouthing a _be serious! Help her!_

 _“Please, please, pleeeeease come!”_ Rapunzel goes on, _“I’m scared I won’t know what to say to him and—and you’re really good at making things less awkward! Please come and help me out?”_

She sighs. “Oh my god, calm down. I’m pretty sure Eugene asked you to go out expecting to be with you one-on-one. He’d probably be pissed if I showed up.”

_“No, no. He, uh. He actually said that I can ask you to come along if I wanted.”_

“ _If_ you wanted, Rapunzel. Doesn’t mean he actually wants me to come.”

_“Come on! Think of this as, um, repaying a favour? L-like how you were freaking out when you had no idea what to do for Elsa? I helped you out, didn’t I?”_

Elsa jolts, drawing back slightly to give Anna this curious look. “You did that?”

Blood rushes to her head. “N-no! Well, I mean— _hey!_ I didn’t freak out!”

 _“Wait, is that Elsa?”_ Rapunzel completely disregards Anna’s argument. _“Oh my goodness! Elsa, please convince Anna to come! A-and you should come as well!”_

“Hello, Rapunzel,” Elsa chimes in calmly. “Um. If it makes you feel better, I have no problem coming along.”

“Wait, really?” Anna stares at the blonde, genuinely surprised.

 _“Yes!”_ Rapunzel cheers, and Anna can practically picture her running around in joy despite just hearing her voice. _“Yes, yes, yes! I’ll see you at twelve-thirty, okay? We’re going to that Korean barbecue place close to the mall. See you there!”_

Aaaand she’s hung up. Didn’t even give time for the two to answer.

“Well,” Anna says, still a bit bewildered from what just happened, “… that was weird.”

Elsa just nods. Then, very quietly, as if uncertain, she speaks up again. “Did… did you really?”

“Hm? What?”

The blonde tugs at her bottom lip. “Freak out over me…”

Her entire body just tenses. _God damn it._ Freaking Rapunzel. Anna thought that she could remain super smooth for the rest of her life—to take this secret to her grave if she could! But, nope. The secret’s revealed. She’s a complete idiot. “I, um. Well, I was… I mean, I did have the biggest crush on you, so, uh, yeah. Yes, I did.”

A moment. Like Elsa needs the time to process the information. “Oh.” She breathes, blushing prettily.

The corners of Anna’s lips tug upwards. Is Elsa flattered? Oh, she _so_ is! “Just so you know,” she continues, bending down a little to find Elsa’s beautiful blue eyes. “I was constantly sneaking glances at you at that time.”

Elsa lowers her head, but she’s still looking at Anna, still trying. “I-I know,” she whispers. “I was as well.”

Anna smiles. “That,” she reaches to hold onto the blonde’s shoulders, slowly slipping her hands up to cradle her face with warm fingers, “… I didn’t know.”

An unspoken comfort. Elsa’s reddened cheeks do little to shy her away from the inevitable kiss. When Anna leans in, Elsa has already angled her head. She has already parted her lips, already has her eyes closed, already succumbed herself to Anna’s touch. Nothing but the sounds of their gasps and the occasional moans can be heard in the room. Of course, anything that sounds remotely sensual from Elsa prompts Anna to take a leap forward. So, when she draws away from the kiss to breathe, to trail her tongue down the column of the blonde’s neck, she gets a weak resistance from Elsa—a sort of hesitation.

“What is it?” Anna questions, breathless.

Elsa, heaving as she struggles to catch her breath as well, has her collar open and cleavage exposed, and she looks away with creased brows. “W-we should get going.”

Right. Rapunzel and Eugene. Lunch.

“Yeah,” Anna clears her throat. “Sorry.” She is going to berate herself some more, but then Elsa, smiling gently, tilts Anna’s chin up so that they’d look at each other. The blonde comes in for one more quick kiss.

 _“Tonight.”_ She whispers, and then she _saunters_ off.

Anna bites her tongue. Presses her legs together. Freaking Elsa. She swears the girl is trying to tempt her with the way she’s walking. Anna smirks.

It’s nice to see Elsa being a bit more daring at times, though.

* * *

“Anna, Elsa! This way!” Rapunzel waves to them from her and Eugene’s table. They got a nice little corner, bordered off these neat, paper dividers that keeps the booth relatively secluded.

“Hello,” Elsa greets with a polite wave of her own.

Anna just slides right into the booth. “Sorry we took so long,” She scoots far enough in for Elsa to sit beside her.

“Nah, we just got here,” Eugene grabs the menu hanging off the wall and hands it to the girls across. “Got any preferences?”

Anna takes the menu and hands it to Elsa. “I’m quite indecisive. Elsa’s usually the one to pick out what we eat when we go out. Have you guys decided yet?”

“The four-person lunch deal seems pretty good,” Rapunzel points to the picture. “It has pork belly and comes with seafood pancake and everything.”

“That sounds delicious,” Elsa says primly. “Are you okay with it, Anna?”

“Honestly, I can eat anything right now, so yeah. Let’s do it.” She clasps her hands together. “Order, Elsa! Order!”

A server promptly arrives at their table when they press the call button. Elsa, fitting into the role of the responsible mother of the group so naturally, does her usual thing wherein she places the order for everyone. At least, when she’s out with Anna, she’s the one to handle everything. Literally, it’s like hanging out with a guardian. And Anna was the one to have worked at a daycare; Elsa seriously puts her to shame. The blonde is just so attentive and maternal and dependable. She’s so caring that she asked Eugene and Rapunzel if they had any allergies before the server could.

“The appetizers will arrive shortly,” the woman says with one of those _give-me-a-tip-I’m-being-nice_ tones as she takes away the menu. “Let me know if you need anything.”

When she’s walked off, Eugene is the first to speak up. “Jesus, Elsa. Now I’m reminded why you’re group leader for so many of your projects. Always one to keep everything in check, huh?”

“Huh,” Anna tilts her head in wonder. “You never told me you were leader in the things you do.”

“It’s just a title,” Elsa gives her a soft smile. “Nothing serious. I just don’t like it when things are disorganized.”

“Should see the spreadsheets that she makes,” Eugene gives an exaggerated eye-roll. “She even has one that is literally a checklist of whether or not the members of the group signed to do their part _for the day._ ”

“Hm, maybe I should start doing that as well…” Rapunzel taps her chin. “It certainly does help to make sure that everybody is working.”

“It would also make everyone competitive as hell,” Eugene adds. “You like working in that kind of environment?”

The golden blonde crosses her arms. “Any environment where people are doing their part, thereby avoiding unnecessary conflict would be one where I would gladly work in, to be honest.”

“That’s exactly how I think.” Elsa says.

The two blondes, in that moment, establish a connection. At the same time, Anna just eyes Eugene with a risen brow. _Perfectionists,_ they’re probably both thinking.

The food arrives, and this time, before Elsa can activate her maternal instincts once more, Eugene grabs the metal tongs. “Uh-uh. I’m the gentleman here, so let me serve you ladies.” He says this as he hovers a hand over the stove to check the heat.

“While I agree with you,” Anna yanks the spare tongs from his grip. She clasps the tool together a few times as she speaks, like the tongs are speaking, “I can proudly proclaim that I am a pro at preparing steak, so let me deal with the beef. You can handle the rest.”

“Ooh. So pro. The alliteration in that sentence.” Rapunzel teases. “Stop trying to act cool in front of Elsa. We all know you’re the clumsiest person ever.”

“Hey!”

Elsa actually giggles, as untrue as that comment is. Stupid Rapunzel. Anna is totally cool in front of Elsa! … _She thinks._ Actually, no. She doesn’t know. She should ask. _Should_ she ask?

“You’re fine, Anna,” Elsa says, as if on cue. It’s like she can read her thoughts or something. Rapunzel and Eugene can’t see, but the blonde has her hand on the small of Anna’s back. The touch is gentle, it’s simple, but it’s enough as a reassurance for her. She can feel Elsa’s thumb running in small circles, and the more Anna indulges herself in the touch, the calmer she becomes. It’s all involuntary.

“Y-you sure?” Anna knows the answer, but the question just came out. She just wants to listen to Elsa speak, really.

Elsa’s eyes soften. Deep cerulean glimmering in the light. “You do try a bit too hard sometimes, but I think you’re the sweetest.”

Anna nudges her girlfriend playfully on the side to remind her whose team she should be on.

As the afternoon goes on, Anna realizes that this camaraderie of the four is very unlike the usual circle of friends that she’s hung out with. Even though Rapunzel’s in some of them with her—like the clique with the girls—it’s different. It’s certainly nothing like _Madam Anna & BoYzZzZ _(that’s just a troll group), because this one’s… well. It has a different vibe to it, so to speak. Eugene is not a serious person, Rapunzel can be playful _,_ and Anna herself is pretty bouncy, but when all of them are in the presence of Elsa, their IQ is somehow increased by fifty. Suddenly, they are having sophisticated conversations about the future, about the world, and about life. It’s not at all uncomfortable, as serious as it sounds; rather, Anna finds this to be enlightening—like the longer the conversation goes on, the more she would learn.

When Eugene talks about his upcoming internship with some tech company, it prompts Rapunzel to ask about his long-term goals. Eugene answers with something ridiculous, like how he wants to be the next Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos, which just makes everybody laugh. When challenged with the same question, Rapunzel states with ease that she wants to get into art school, but probably after she, too, gets a business degree. Anna knows about this from the start, of course. Rapunzel has a natural talent with art—be it the creative or performance aspect—but, simultaneously, the girl understands that she should never be blinded by naïveté; that is, to chase dreams ahead of knowing what is achievable and what is not. This is precisely why Rapunzel wants a business degree before pursuing her ultimate goal. Being her best friend, Anna has more or less been influenced by Rapunzel’s mindset. However, unlike Rapunzel who already has her life figured out, Anna doesn’t have the slightest clue what she wants other than the fact that she should follow her parents’ footsteps. But is that because she wants it, or because she’s influenced?

Uncertain. Anna doesn’t know. 

“Of course,” Rapunzel carries on with the topic, “I have to be accepted by the business faculty first.”

“With your credentials, I’m quite certain you will be,” Elsa says.

“Thank you.” Rapunzel chuckles. “But I don’t want to get too ahead of myself.”

“You’ll be fine, blondie,” Eugene gives her a wink. He cuts up a slice of the seafood pancake and serves it to her.

Rapunzel gives him a playful glare. Not threatening at all; it’s impossible for her to be, anyway. “Nice of you,” she says, laying out her plate.

“I am, quite frankly, the nicest _and_ the most charming business major you will ever encounter, thank you very much.”

Anna hears yet another one of those cute giggles from her best friend.

“Okay,” Rapunzel laughs. “Very charming.”

 _Yep,_ Anna thinks, Rapunzel is totally smitten with Eugene. She has never heard her friend laugh like this before. Not even Anna’s lame jokes can make Rapunzel sound remotely as cute. And just look at her! The way she’s ogling at the guy. Are those bedroom eyes? They definitely are. Gosh, Anna knows bedroom eyes when she sees them. She picks up a sizzling piece of pork belly from the grill, serving it for Elsa.

“Thank you, Anna,” the girl says softly, so as to not interrupt the Rapunzel and Eugene’s moment.

See, Anna knows bedroom eyes because it is in Elsa where she sees them. Such a dreamy and intimate gaze—one that Elsa gives only to her. Mostly when they wake up in bed together. Or maybe when Anna surprises her with a kiss. So beautiful. Admittedly, Anna becomes easily lost in a trance, forever entrapped in her reverie when Elsa looks at her like that.

“They’re enamoured by each other, aren’t they?”

“Hmm?” Anna blinks.

Elsa suppresses a laugh, covering her lips with her dainty fingers. She tilts her head towards the couple across the table.

Why, of course they are. There are couples that appear irritating, and there are couples that are a joy to look at; in that instance, Anna knows for a fact that Eugene and Rapunzel are very much the latter. Which makes her think—what about her and Elsa?

“A-anyway,” Rapunzel says, interrupting Anna’s thoughts. “Enough about Eugene.” She sits up straight, like she’s caught committing a crime and is trying her best to look innocent.

Eugene makes this half-pouty face. Not quite becoming for a guy, to be honest, but Anna thinks it is hilarious. Even Elsa can’t help but to let a giggle slip.

Which, naturally, catches the other blonde’s attention. “So, um, Elsa. What about you? I’ve always wanted to know more about you.”

“Oh? But I’m not a very interesting character.” She says in her nonchalant tone, picking up that neatly cut piece of pork belly with her metal chopsticks.

 _Not very interesting_ is a lie. Because right now, the entire table is just observing; the way Elsa holds the piece so effortlessly, the way she dips it into the ponzu sauce, the way she parts her lips ever-so-slightly to eat it. How she chews with her mouth closed, how she covers her mouth with an elegant palm, and how her throat bobs when she swallows. Every single action that comes from Elsa is a work of art. A wonder.

Then, Rapunzel remembers that the girl in question is still waiting for her to continue. “Mr. Matthias would say otherwise.”

Elsa pushes a strand of hair behind an ear, she grabs her cup of water and takes a sip.

“What made you drop all your scholarships to pursue engineering, anyway?”

… _what?_

“Scholarships?” Eugene joins in. “You never said anything about scholarships. I thought you mentioned something about barely getting into NMU?”

Anna turns towards Elsa. She watches as the blonde bites her lip. Watches Elsa fidget in her seat. Watches how she is nibbling at the rim of that glass cup, the water barely touching her lips. Slowly, very carefully, Elsa places her cup down, but she grips onto it with both hands like it is her lifeline.

“I… never had the intention to get into engineering.” Elsa explains. Her voice quiet, Anna sees Rapunzel and Eugene leaning in to hear her better.

“That’s what I thought!” Rapunzel exclaims, throwing her arms in the air for emphasis. “Didn’t you get accepted by pretty much _all_ the music schools you’ve applied to? Oh, with scholarship for most of them, as well!”

“You did?” Anna perks her head up.

Elsa’s smile becomes nervous, almost apologetic. Anna finds herself getting anxious just by looking at Elsa’s fingers, which are fidgeting on her glass cup. Anna reaches over, as subtly as she can, and takes one of Elsa’s hand into her own, holding it in a gentle grip on her lap.

“I just… yeah.” Elsa tries, still maintaining that forced smile. “Wanted to try new things and all.”

Rapunzel is not an idiot. She is bright, kind, and most importantly, observant. She can tell when a particular subject does not interest a person, and so it is in Elsa’s answer that she sees the current topic does not interest the older girl—hell, the subject probably bothers her, which is why the response is so brief, so minimal.

“That’s nice,” Rapunzel says with a soft smile. “I’m all in for trying new things. Maybe one day, I’ll try out for culinary school.”

“Don’t get cocky, now,” Anna teases. “Remember that time you set your s’mores on fire?”

“Okay, that was in the fifth grade! And I would hardly categorize making s’mores by the campfire ‘cooking’, alright?”

The air around them lightens up. Everyone breaks into a comfortable chuckle, and as all of this happens, Anna keeps her hands on Elsa’s. As all of this happens, Anna remembers the reason that Elsa no longer wants to play music. The reason she has become so reserved, so quiet.

 _It’s okay,_ she wants to tell her. _You can hold onto me._

It’s just clockwork from there. Elsa responds by bringing her other hand down, wrapping it over Anna’s warmth. Because, despite the silence, Elsa can hear it. Like that night when she told Anna everything, there already is an understanding between them. It’s there, and it will never dissipate—not unless both of them actively try to sever this connection.

* * *

They get home around three in the afternoon, which still leaves them plenty of time to study. Chances are, they’re going to be having dinner late considering all the meat they’ve had. It works out, though. Anna wouldn’t mind an extra few hours to digest.

“I’m going to make some tea before I get back to studying. Do you want some?”

Elsa removes her shoes and, supposedly, this is the part where she grabs the bunny slippers for herself, but she isn’t moving. She’s just standing awkwardly at the foyer, staring into space.

Would it be weird to proclaim that she saw this coming?

No, probably not, Anna thinks. Because throughout the drive home (which wasn’t much of a road trip, to be honest), Elsa was quiet. Anna would go on about how Eugene and Rapunzel are a match made in heaven; she would say something about how the food was greasy but it’s fine to eat like this once in a while, and that they can totally set up their own Korean barbecue at home. She could be saying anything, but the point is, Elsa would not have responded. It was just the occasional nod, a small smile, or a hum.

So, quite clearly, something’s bothering her.

And Anna is done being ignorant. She certainly doesn’t want Elsa to think that because she is younger, she can’t carry the burden with her—whatever the issue may be. 

She takes a deep breath and steps forward. “Elsa?”

Takes a second, but Elsa eventually raises her head. “Hm?”

Anna greets her with her usual smile. It always seems to brighten the blonde up. “Everything okay?” she asks.

Elsa gives her a lopsided smile. It’s adorable, under any circumstances, but now, Anna just feels it looks forced.

So, she takes a deep breath—more like a sigh, really, and spreads her arms. “Come here.”

There’s no hesitation. Elsa’s lips quiver as her brows furrow, like she’s about to cry, and she runs into the redhead’s arms. She doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t sob, doesn’t tremble; she just keeps her arms wrapped tightly around Anna’s waist. And Anna, ever so patient with this girl, strokes her back and combs through the blonde tresses, careful not to ruin that braid.

“You should be mad at me.” Elsa mumbles into Anna’s shoulder.

She turns so that her lips would press against Elsa’s temple. “I could never.”

Elsa shakes her head, unintentionally nuzzling into the younger girl’s neck, and it’s kind of ticklish. “You should be. You looked so surprised when they mentioned those things.” She draws back, avoiding Anna’s gaze. “Rapunzel knows more about me than you, and it’s because I’ve never made the effort to tell you anything about myself. Because I never bothered. Because I’m—”

 _That’s enough._ What is happening? This isn’t Elsa. She is rational, calm, and never assumes things without basis. Right now, she’s so uptight; she isn’t making sense. Anna needs to stop this.

“But I told you I wouldn’t push,” she says softly. “I asked you to tell me only when you were ready. It’s not your fault, Elsa.”

“Yes, you did, and I—I could’ve told you so much more,” Elsa argues. “But all I gave you was some cryptic, pretentious, sob-story.”

“Hey,” Anna pulls away, holding onto her biceps to keep Elsa in place. She tries to keep their eyes connected, but Elsa fights to look away. “Don’t say that. You’ve told me enough. If it makes you uncomfortable, I would never pry.”

“Anna—stop.” Elsa shoves her away. And that genuinely hurt. It’s never happened. Elsa never rejects hugs.

Seeing the blonde like this, her heart aches.

“Okay, then just—” Anna tries, but she struggles for the words. This should be so easy. It’s not complicated at all. Just be honest with each other. Why are they like this? Why is everything so heated? What went wrong? “—just tell me. I’ll listen. Please, I don’t want to fight over this.”

“I don’t want to fight, either. I’m—” Elsa clenches her eyes shut. _God,_ she is so tensed. She’s balled her fists, has her shoulders scrunched up and everything. “—I’m trying to tell you.”

Anna tries to reach for her again, but Elsa shirks away. At that, the redhead bites back a sob.

But Elsa sees immediately what she has done. “No…” and this time, she reaches out, but before she can touch Anna, she stops. Like she’s scared, like she has no right, like she’s guilty. Elsa brings her hands to her chest, clutching them there as her entire body trembles.

 _What has she done?_ Anna asks herself. How did it all escalate so quickly? It must be her. Anna must’ve fucked up somehow. Yeah, that has to be it. Elsa… she—she wants to be alone. _That’s it._ They’ve been hanging out for far too long, seeing each other day by day. Elsa’s probably tired. Needs a break. She’s had enough of Anna’s immaturity. _Yeah._

“I-I’ll…” Anna hears her own voice crack. Her vision is blurry. _God damn it,_ now’s not the time to cry. Stop it. “… I’ll just study upstairs. We can, um. I…” she doesn’t finish. Doesn’t have the breath in her to finish, and she’s off. Anna runs to the living room where all her stuff is. She shuts her eyes, and, as an attempt to even out her breath, ends up sniffling—but _no no no._ Now’s not the time to cry.

 _Ahh,_ but her chest burns. Her ears are ringing and her eyes feel so hot, _so hot._ She’s biting onto her lip so hard that she thinks she can taste blood. God, this is so annoying. Why did she have to screw things up? Maybe if she had stopped to think before proceeding to make Elsa uncomfortable, this wouldn’t have happened. Such a child. She’s so stupid. Anna’s _so—_

_Bzz bzz bzz_

_Great._ A call. Now’s not the freaking time, but. Whatever. She needs the distraction. She wipes the tears from her eyes with a sleeve. The caller ID reads _Unknown Number._ Is it one of those scammers calling? So help her, if it is, she’s going to yell the shit out of them. Elsa being in the other room be damned. She needs to vent.

“Hello?” she answers a bit aggressively.

_“Miss Anna?”_

Huh? Who addresses her as… _oh!_

“Gerda? Is that you?”

_“Yes, it is me, Miss Anna. It’s been a while!”_

“Yeah! It has! Um—”

 _“I am terribly sorry, Miss Anna,”_ Gerda interrupts. She is speaking with an agitated tone. Like she’s in a hurry. _“Please, are you anywhere around Miss Elsa at the moment?”_

“That, uh,” Anna hesitates. She looks at the doorway that leads back to the foyer. “Y-yeah, she’s at my house right now.”

 _“Oh, thank goodness,”_ the lady breathes. _“I have just informed Miss Elsa of her grandfather’s situation, and she’s suddenly stopped replying. Would you mind checking on her for me?”_

“Situation…?”

 _“Yes, I’m afraid I cannot get into detail, but he has collapsed, and we are currently on the way to the hospital. Please, Miss Anna,”_ Gerda pauses and then she speaks lowly, _“Miss Elsa does not do well with hospitals, but she will try her absolute hardest to visit no matter what.”_

Anna nearly drops her phone. She sure as hell knocked a chair over and stubbed her toe or something just as she rushes out to see the blonde.

“Elsa!”

The girl in question is standing, but she is leaning against the wall. Like she is using it as a leverage. Like if she doesn’t have something to hold onto, she would shatter. Anna runs up to face her.

“Hey—” she stops. Elsa’s… she looks like she can’t breathe. The arm on the wall, supposedly stabilizing Elsa, is shaking. She’s holding onto her phone, but Anna thinks that Elsa is clenching onto it so tightly that it might as well crack. Elsa’s hand clutched at her chest is just clawing at the fabric of her shirt, and above all else, the girl is petrified. Trembling, but petrified.

This is much worse than that time at the bus stop, when Elsa witnessed the accident.

Anna doesn’t know what to do. But she will go with her gut feeling—

“N-no… no, don’t…” Elsa squeaks as a pair of arms wrap around her. Slowly, warm hands come to shield her head, pulling it in to rest upon a firm shoulder. These hands then come to cover her ears, and the world is muted. Everything is soft, muffled.

Anna will do this for her.

Make things quiet.

Shut out the world.

Protect her. Anna prays that she is enough.

When Elsa gasps, her breath shaky, Anna is relieved to hear the girl take in a successful inhale. _Breathe in, breathe out._ Repeat, repeat.

She follows up instantly: “It’s okay, Elsa. It’s okay. Take your time. Breathe.” Anna whispers into the crown of Elsa’s head.

It doesn’t matter that she’s helped Elsa get over the episode, or the fact that she can be her leverage. In this very moment, Anna just knows that she couldn’t be happier to feel Elsa circle her arms around her waist. Couldn’t be happier that Elsa is acknowledging her presence. 

“I need…” Elsa’s voice still trembles. She lifts her head, eyes reddened with tears. “… need to go to the—to the…”

“I know,” Anna says firmly. She takes her hands and bends low to look up at her, giving Elsa the most encouraging smile she can muster. “Let me come with you.”

Elsa's blue eyes emote so much. No words are needed; Anna can see how grateful, how glad, and how content they are when more tears form, lingering at Elsa's waterlines. Anna wipes at them with her thumbs, brushing them away effortlessly.

And then Elsa closes her eyes. She takes another deep breath.

“… Please do,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> came back from aphelion thinking i could write some fluff, but my brain was like NOPE TIME FOR ANGST


	19. Chapter 19

“Thank you.” Anna says to their Uber driver as she helps Elsa out of the car.

“No problem,” he says, making it apparent that he’s leaving Anna a five-star rating on the app just before driving off.

Oh, right. The rating. It’s been a while since she’s taken an Uber; she’s totally forgotten about that. Though, that should be the least of her concerns right now. Anna reaches for Elsa’s hand, cold and trembling despite the long car ride and her constant attempt to keep it warm. The girl’s head is low—not only that, but she’s trying her hardest to look off to the side. Like the very notion of seeing the hospital entrance would crumble her.

Gerda certainly wasn’t lying when she said that Elsa doesn’t do well with hospitals.

Does it have something to do with the fact that she used to see doctors a lot? Or is it because the last time she’s gone to the hospital was when her parents—

“Anna.”

“Yes?” comes her instinctive reply. She wraps an arm over Elsa’s shoulders.

And Elsa, very naturally, turns for a hug. Hides in Anna’s shoulder. She just _breathes._

Anna sighs, content that the girl is no longer shaking. Elsa was so tensed the entire car ride here, and Anna would be lying if she said that seeing Elsa having an episode didn’t give her a panic attack of her own. But, here she is, standing in front of the hospital, stroking Elsa’s back. Flashing lights of ambulance trucks come and go. Paramedics pushing injured people in and out of the entrance. Visitors coming and going. They’re background noises, nothing that Anna wants to pay attention to. All she knows is that she wants to run her hand up and down the blonde’s spine. Breathe into Elsa’s hair. She takes in her warmth, her softness, her smell of lavender. Because simply being able to _be_ here for Elsa—it’s all that she needs. It’s her solace. Anna isn’t asking for too much, is she?

“Thank you for being here.” Elsa’s voice is softened through Anna’s scarf.

She kisses her, right on her brow. “Of course.” Anna continues to brush along Elsa’s back. Just slow and gentle strokes. “Take your time.”

Elsa breathes In. Out. In. _Out_. She does this, continuously, and Anna swears—she can feel Elsa’s heartbeat against her chest. It’s a quick and unsteady _thump-thump, thump-thump._ Her shoulders heave up and down, and then she draws back, now forcing herself to look directly into Anna’s eyes.

Anna can tell, Elsa is giving it her all to speak. Because her lips are parted—she’s ready to say it. She wants to say it. And her fingers. Her fingers that are clenching so tightly into Anna’s jacket—to the point that they’re digging into her skin (but Anna will never complain). Elsa is trying. She is trying so hard.

And then, finally—“G-grandfather…” she stammers.

Anna’s hands come up to massage the back of Elsa’s neck, caressing the taller girl’s skin with her fingers, easing the tension.

“Grandfather has a weak heart. I’m terrified that he will leave me as well.” Elsa is grinding her voice. An evident tone of frustration—something that Anna’s never heard coming from her before.

Quite honestly, it is scary. Which is why she can only hold her closer. Anna doesn’t know what else she can do for her.

“… I’m so sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Hey, come on,” Anna says immediately. “We’ve talked about this. You aren’t supposed to apologize to me. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I know, but—” Elsa pauses.

Despite being the taller one, when she’s resting on Anna’s shoulder like this, she appears so small, so fragile. Elsa indulges herself in Anna’s touches, and it is for this reason that the latter would never stop. Not unless Elsa asks.

“Just a bit longer. C-can we… please. Just like this. Just a little more.”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, Elsa.”

She nuzzles into Anna’s neck. The arms wrapped around her waist are locked in a death-grip. Anna can hardly breathe, but she doesn’t complain. The stroking motions never cease, and she relaxes herself as an attempt to tell Elsa—albeit indirectly—that _it’s okay._

And it makes her wonder so. Will things ever be okay? Can’t they just go back to where they were this morning, studying in a comfortable silence? Can’t they go hang out with Rapunzel and Eugene, talk about mutual interests? Can’t Anna be enough to help this girl?

“Anna,” Elsa eventually starts, voice barely projecting, “I’ll tell you everything after. I promise.”

Anna nods. “And I’ll listen.”

Elsa gives her a hesitant smile.

Anna continues running her hands up and down Elsa’s back, to give her some form of warmth, reassurance. Anything _._

But that smile soon disappears; it twists into a frown, a look of concern. Elsa takes Anna’s hands into her own, bringing them up to her lips. Then comes a sudden confession, in the form of murmur—

“I love you.”

Her heart skips a beat. She chokes out a laugh, nervously maintaining her smile. “What… Elsa. What’s that all of a sudden?”

Elsa closes her eyes. She keeps her lips on Anna’s knuckles. Thin brows furrowed together in worry, her dark eyelashes have remnants of tears lingering on them, and Anna wants so much to kiss them dry. “Nothing,” Elsa shakes her head, more so to herself than to Anna. “Nothing.” She repeats.

Confused, all Anna can do is to offer her a small smile. She doesn’t interrupt. She waits.

Elsa comes in for one more hug. She holds onto Anna with a tender strength. Desperate, but tender. It’s just a hug, but Anna can feel the weight of Elsa’s emotions. Feel every drop of concern that pours from her delicate voice.

“We—I… I can’t hold onto you later,” Elsa looks as if she’s about to cry. But she pushes on, “… Grandfather—I’m not sure he knows. I’m not sure he approves.”

_… what?_

“Let go of me. Even if I…” Elsa tenses. “Anna, please. Can you do that?”

Let go? Even if she’s having a _panic attack?_ That’s absurd. Why would Anna let her go? Elsa’s terrified of the hospital. How can Anna just—

She gasps.

Oh.

_Oh no._

Anna stares, wide-eyed at the blonde.

The words repeat in her head. Over and over. And then eventually, everything _clicks._

Anna breathes out—it comes in a long, drawn-on exhale. One that reminds Anna how long she’s been holding her breath, how long she’s been standing here, all tensed. As promised, Elsa lets go. Her arms drop to her sides, but while Elsa continues to stare at her with utmost adoration, Anna herself feels as though she is about to shatter.

But she can’t.

Not in front of Elsa.

Not when she needs her.

So, _smile._ Just smile, _Anna._

“I understand.” She says with a burning throat. “Yes. I can do that.”

* * *

Elsa’s grandfather is staying in a private room. The hospital isn’t exactly Anna’s natural hangout-spot, so she’s really just following Elsa. The nurses give them some vague directions, but Elsa seems to know her way. They turn a few corners, head up a few steps, and a short elevator ride later, they arrive on a floor with a big metallic sign that reads ‘Intensive Care Unit’. They walk down a few more corridors, and they come to their destination.

“We’re here,” Elsa says softly.

Anna clenches her teeth. She slips her arm away, bringing her hands together awkwardly to her front. It’s so hot. Is it the heat or the nerves? Maybe a bit of both. She loosens her scarf, opting to take it off all together, where she just uses it to hide her fidgeting hands. God, she’s so scared. But, please— _snap out of it._ Don’t be like this.

Deep breaths.

“Elsa?”

The taller girl turns to look at her.

“Would…” Anna speaks, “… would it be better if I stayed out here?”

“No,” Elsa answers right away. No hesitation. She shakes her head desperately. “Please, no. I need you.”

Her heart swells. Hearing that is enough. Anna, as frightened as she is, pours every ounce of confidence into the smile she gives Elsa. Doesn’t matter if it hurts that she can’t hold her. Being here is enough. Being here for Elsa is enough. “It’ll be okay.” She brings a hand to the small of the blonde’s back. But her touch doesn’t linger. As soon as the contact is made, Anna draws away again, hiding her hands underneath the scarf she’s holding onto.

It’s so obvious. Elsa wants more than anything to throw her arms around Anna. But she resists. Instead, she nods once, as if affirming to herself that she’s ready. Elsa brings the will to raise a fist. She hovers it at the door. Throat bobs. Then, finally. _Finally._

_Knock knock_

_“Come in.”_ Says a deep voice a mere second later.

The blonde reaches for the handle, turning it to push the door open.

“Elsa,” comes the same voice.

The door opens completely. Anna’s attention is immediately drawn to Gerda, the only person whom she recognizes, standing next to the bed. The elderly lady is dressed formally, much like the time she visited Elsa that time. A long dress matched with a blazer; her posture is firm, tall, elegant.

Not unlike the way Elsa is presenting herself at the moment.

“Grandfather,” Elsa says it like a relief. She paces her way into the room. 

Anna, very naturally, sees the man, lying in the inclined bed. 

She feels as though the air has thickened. Like the atmosphere has shifted, somehow. Hell, the entire planet may move—it may fall out of its axis—it may even voluntarily leave the solar system’s orbit, if this man so much as _glares_ at it.

His frame is large, imposing. If he were to stand up, Anna thinks he would be at least six-foot-five or so. Maybe more, who knows. He wears a thick, dark red moustache, its colour matching his short, wavy hair. The wrinkles appearing on his forehead along with the dark circles below his eyes do little to make him look less daunting. In fact, they just serve to emphasize his stern expression which is seemingly permanent. 

“Gerda has told me what happened,” Elsa says, genuine concern coming out of her voice. It’s odd, though. The proximity between her and her grandfather is a mere arm’s length, yet it’s like there is a barrier between them, preventing Elsa from going closer. So, instead, she’s just standing awkwardly on the side, hands clasped together in front of her. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? When can you leave the hospital?” she asks.

The man raises a palm. An insignificant motion on anybody else, but when he does it, Anna thinks it is akin to a command of a king. Or, like, someone powerful. Jeez, everything he does just leaves an impact.

“There is no need to worry, Elsa,” he says. “Just another problem with my blood pressure, is all.”

Elsa breathes out. “You must have been overworking yourself again.”

Her grandfather chuckles. “Why, the firm is not going to run itself without me, now, would it?”

“I know,” she responds. “But…”

“I will be fine, Elsa,” he says, smiling. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes become more evident as he does. “More importantly,” he glances over to the redhead.

Anna stiffens. She may have let out a squeak.

“Would you please introduce this lovely young lady to me?”

“Oh, this—” Elsa turns to her, “This is Anna Eriksen. She’s my…” _hesitates_ , “… my friend.”

Anna feels herself twitch. A reflex.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Eriksen.” Elsa’s grandfather says politely.

“Oh, no,” Anna starts, quickly composing herself. Is she supposed to go over to shake his hand? Maybe not. He’s a patient and she’s an outsider, contaminated with germs and all. “The pleasure is mine, sir. And, please, call me Anna.”

“Very well,” he says. “Anna.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man chuckles. “Relax. I do not bite. Please, take a seat. It may take a while, as I haven’t spoken to my granddaughter for quite some time, now.”

Anna swallows. As kind as his offer, why does she feel a shiver running down her spine? It is a chilling sensation. Like ants crawling up her back. But she keeps her mouth shut, refrains herself from showing a hint of fear. This is uncharted territory; she has no idea what this man can do. More importantly, she has no idea what he can do to Elsa. She does as she is told, making her way to a seat right next to the door while wearing a smile.

“So, my dear,” Elsa’s grandfather shifts his attention to the blonde. “How goes your studies? Surely, you would have much more important things to do than to visit this old man.”

It is a joke. It comes off as a joke. Anna is quite certain the man is attempting to joke. But why does it sound so condescending?

“That is not true, grandfather. I’ve been wanting to see you for a while.” Elsa replies. Flawless, proper, formal, _robotic_. But Anna sees at the corner of her eyes, and it breaks her heart—the girl’s hands, clenched so tightly in front of her, are trembling. “A-and my studies are going well. I was actually in the middle of a session with Anna when I received Gerda’s call.”

“Always the dramatic,” he shoots a frown at the elderly lady.

“I am simply giving Miss Elsa an excuse to visit you, Master Runeard,” Gerda answers easily. Her tone is much more casual than that of Elsa’s, which is strange considering the fact that she works under the man. “You certainly wouldn’t take this opportunity from her, would you?”

The man sighs. “You are right.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut seemingly in concentration. “I am sorry, Elsa. It is true that I haven’t been spending time with you.”

“Please, don’t worry about it,” Elsa says and then turns to the woman. “And, it’s okay, Gerda. I know grandfather is busy.”

The woman visibly sighs, like she knows Elsa would say those very words.

And what Anna notices is that everything that happens in the room is akin to a routine. It’s so monotonous and dry and… soulless? Something like that. Basically, if Anna ever spoke to her family like this, they would tell her to get her head out of her ass. Well, not so literally, but something along the lines. They’re not acting in some soap opera, after all. Or a television drama. But this exchange between Elsa and her grandfather? They are like actors, reading by the lines.

“What of your internship offers, Elsa?”

“I have gotten several,” Elsa answers without a break. “Though, none of them interest me so far.”

Anna twitches again. Once more, a topic involving Elsa that she is unaware of. Maybe it’s because she never asks. God, she doesn’t know anything. Anna doesn’t know anything about Elsa. 

“That is a shame,” the man continues. “But it is to be expected from my granddaughter. Always aiming high.”

Elsa tilts her head like she’s bowing, and then she stands even straighter than before. If it weren’t for her shaking hands, Anna would think that she is indicative of the imposing figure that is her grandfather.

“And I suppose this is the same for your standards in men? Is it the reason you have yet to bring home anyone for me to meet?”

Anna’s breath hitches.

“No, I…” Elsa stops herself from looking her girlfriend’s way. “I haven’t—um…”

“I’m sure Miss Elsa will let you know when the time comes, Master Runeard,” Gerda cuts into the conversation naturally. “For now, perhaps it is best to let her focus on her studies?”

“Ah, yes,” he laughs. “One thing at a time. Though, I certainly hope whoever wins your heart in the future can match up to you, Elsa.”

The girl in question breathes out, forcing a smile as she does.

And Anna, sitting so insignificantly by herself, wants to unhear those words. She bites her tongue, looks down at her feet, desperate to hold herself back from revealing any signs of emotion. As much as it hurts, _she can’t._

“Grandfather… I actually…” Elsa starts, entirely out of nowhere. It comes off weak but eager, and Anna can feel the gravity in her voice, which prompts her to raise her head.

She sees Elsa, shaking more than ever. Literally. It’s visible. Her shoulders, the frame of her entirety. It’s as if somebody has doused her in ice cold water and she is drenched in her clothes. And her face is pale, like all the blood has been drained from her body. What is she doing? What is she trying to do?

As if on cue, Elsa turns. They make eye contact for bit, Elsa appearing more determined than Anna’s ever seen, and… and then Anna realizes.

She sucks in a breath.

“Grandfather, Anna’s—”

Anna herself doesn’t have the time to react. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise, because right then, another person has walked into the room. A man dressed in a deep green, well-tailored suit; he looks about the same age as Gerda. Curtly, he gives Anna a bow as she is the one closest to the entrance, and then he turns to Elsa and her grandfather, his motions swift and elegant. “Miss Elsa, Master Runeard.”

“K-Kai…” Elsa says it like she’s been holding her breath, and the very notion of being distracted has eased her somehow. The shaking remains, but it isn’t as severe.

Anna, just as well, finds herself breathing once more.

“Hello, Miss Elsa.” The man smiles. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

The blonde exhales. “It has.”

There seems to be so much more they want to say to each other, but, at the same time, it’s like they’re constricted. It’s like they _can’t._ Because at once, Kai has turned to the man in the bed. Any desire to speak with Elsa is dropped, just like that.

“Master Runeard, I have spoken with the doctor,” Kai says, his tone no longer soft. “He insists that you stay the night for safety measures.”

Elsa’s grandfather broadens his shoulders. “I asked to be discharged.”

“Yes, but…” Kai pauses, glancing at Elsa. “Sir, your situation—”

“Fine,” he raises a hand. “Then I must have my flight rescheduled. Please, Kai, give the contractors a valid reason for my absence.”

“Right away, sir.” Kai lowers his head. He reaches for his phone in his pocket, taps it a few times as he heads out of the room. Anna vaguely hears him speaking in some language— _German, maybe?—_ as his voice drifts farther.

 _Hm._ So much for no phones in the hospital.

“Gerda,” Elsa’s grandfather breaks the silence. “Would you kindly speak with the doctors again? I do believe that you come off much gentler than your husband. Perhaps they will be more lenient towards you?”

The elderly lady frowns. “Ever the stubborn one, Master Runeard. Your granddaughter is like this at times, I would like to have you know.”

He smiles.

“Very well,” Gerda sighs. “But while I do that, you must rest.”

Elsa joins in, as an attempt to help convince her grandfather. “Don’t worry too much about work. I am sure the people back at the firm can manage.”

Runeard leans back into his pillow. He gives Elsa this discerning look, yet he still wears a smile. It is equally jarring as it is unnatural. As if it is only a front. “Oh, Elsa. If only,” he closes his eyes. “… If only there were more competent people around to help.”

As if the words have struck Elsa somehow, she freezes.

“Alright, enough chit-chat. Come, Miss Elsa, Miss Anna,” Gerda heads towards the door and motions for them to head out. “This is a rare opportunity for Master Runeard to get some shut-eye. You may visit another time—preferably _not_ at a hospital.”

Runeard chuckles. He looks towards Elsa. “Even more strict than your grandmother ever was—than my mother, actually.” Then, he directs his attention to Anna. “I apologize that our first meeting is under such unfortunate circumstances, Anna.”

“No, please don’t say that,” she shakes her head, fishes for the right words to say. “It, um. It was an honour to meet you, sir.”

He gives her a curt nod.

“When—” Elsa pauses to bite her tug at her lower lip, “—when can I see you again, grandfather?”

“Hopefully, soon,” he answers without much commitment. “I have several projects coming up, all of which require me to fly out of the country to meet my clients.” Runeard offers Elsa a smile—one that, as far as Anna can tell, is the most genuine he has given since they’ve entered the room. “It’ll be soon, my dear,” he says once more.

Elsa starts fidgeting with her fingers again. “Okay.”

Final goodbyes are exchanged, and they are escorted out of the room by Gerda.

Everything happens so quickly—the moment the door shuts, the second that _click_ is heard, Elsa brings a hand up to her chest, digging her nails into her shirt, and then she just _claws._ She’s about to crumble down into a million pieces onto the floor, had it not been for Anna to catch her in time. She keeps her close, wraps her arms around the blonde tightly. Elsa reacts in a similar manner, circling her unsteady arms around Anna’s neck. They are locked in a comfortable embrace, and Anna knows no other way to help her.

“Come, this way.” Gerda says softly, breaking the silence.

Anna follows the elderly lady without letting Elsa go by the hand, and they end up in a seating lounge that is relatively empty. Anna sits, with the blonde next to her, and they are once again hugging, with Elsa clinging onto her shoulders.

“Miss Elsa?”

“I-I’m okay.” She says, a hand still over her chest. Slowly, she draws back, and her eyes meet Anna’s. Blue and teal clash; the colours coalesce, and everything becomes softer—everything is insignificant. Like they are protected by a bubble. “… I’m okay,” she repeats, this time a bit more confidently.

“Yes, yes you are,” Gerda proclaims with a smile that reaches her eyes. She takes Elsa’s hand, grips it tight. “It’s a big improvement. You did much better than last time.”

The joy coming from the lady is practically infectious. When Anna sees how proud Gerda is, how her hazel eyes are glimmering with tears, warmth bubbles in her chest. Anna wraps an arm around Elsa, pulling her in close. She kisses her cheek and hides into the fluffy plait that rests on her shoulder.

Elsa exhales, squeezing onto her caretaker’s hand. Anna can practically hear the blonde’s smile. “Thank you, Gerda. I’m glad you’re here.” she says to the lady.

“I barely did anything, Miss Elsa,” she chuckles. Her round eyes wander over to the redhead. “It seems Miss Anna’s presence was all that you needed, after all.”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” Anna says. “And please, Gerda. I thought I asked you to stop calling me _Miss Anna_!”

“Ah, you are right. Did I start calling you as such again?” Gerda taps her chin curiously. Quite endearing to do for an elderly lady. “I must apologize, my dear. Force of habit.”

Anna can’t help but to break into a soft giggle, to which Gerda follows along. It’s nice, really, to feel the heavy tension ease up like this. She can see why this lovely woman was exactly what Elsa needed in her younger years. Her kindness, her warmth, all enveloping Elsa so tenderly, serves to shape the girl into becoming who she is today. And, like, Anna doesn’t want to get weird or anything, but she is so, _so_ thankful.

Which is why when she says the following words, she means it with all her heart. She is glad Elsa has become who she is. She is glad Gerda has always been there for her. “Thank you, Gerda.” Anna whispers, her fingertips stroke along Elsa’s nape, feeling the soft wisps of baby hair.

Anna wishes more than anything that she can be as good.

Maybe even better.

Elsa shifts, moving so that her cheek rests on the top of Anna’s head. “Gerda?” she starts softly.

“Yes?”

“W-would you mind giving me and Anna a few minutes?”

“Why, of course,” she takes a step back. “I must speak with the doctors, as per your grandfather’s instructions, anyway. Not that I think they’re going to change their minds, but. If I don’t try…” she makes a face.

The two girls breathe out in amusement.

Gerda is off; she gives Anna a look of understanding before turning a corner, disappearing from their sight. And the two are left sitting by themselves in the lounge. Well, the guy in scruffs sitting near the back is napping with his head on the table, so he doesn’t count. Anna is quite content with the way things are at the moment. Despite the smell of the hospital, the occasional nurse or doctor passing by the hallways, and the beeping of the machines in the distant background, everything is subdued. It’s calming.

“Anna?”

“Hm?”

Elsa shifts in her seat. Anna has to pull away from the blonde’s shoulder. “I’m—”

“If you’re about to apologize…” Anna speaks before she can. “I’m going to be very angry at you.”

A surprized Elsa just blinks, eyelids fluttering. Anna softens her approach. No time for jokes. She wants them to talk. She wants to help her.

“It’s okay. I already told you it’s okay.” She says.

Another shake of the head. It seems like this is all Elsa ever does now. “No, let me explain,” she pleads. “I… Anna, I’m—I need you to know, I’m not ashamed of you. Not one bit.”

“I know.”

“And I want more than anything to show you off to the world,”

Her eyes grow hot. Anna bites her lip to hide the quivering. “I know.”

“Give—give me another chance. When the time comes, I’ll tell grandfather.” Elsa goes on. “I realize now is not a good time, considering his condition, but I’ll tell him. I promise I will.”

Anna smiles. She brings a palm up to cup blonde’s cheek. “Elsa.”

Elsa pauses. Waits intently. Pours in her soul to listen. She has all of her attention on Anna, and it is a flattering, _flattering_ gesture.

When else can Anna feel so loved? She leans in. “When it happens, I’ll be there with you, okay?” Their foreheads touch. “Let’s win him over together.”

For a moment, Elsa wavers. Like she is unsure if Anna is being serious. But then Anna comes closer for a kiss. Just a small one. And then everything comes together. Elsa smiles into the kiss, her body no longer tense.

“Let’s go home?” Elsa suggests when their lips part. Her hand finds Anna’s and their fingers intertwine.

“Mmn.” Anna nods.

One more peck on the lips, and then Elsa stands. “I’ll let Gerda know we’re leaving. Can you get us a ride?”

“Aw, but I want to say goodbye to her, too.”

Elsa runs her thumb on the back of the redhead’s hand. “It’s fine. She’s probably busy talking with the doctor. I’m going to be quick. Go wait for me by the elevator, will you?”

Anna presses her lips on a knuckle of Elsa’s hand, and then she releases her. “Okay.”

The blonde beams at her, and it is so sweet. Being one of the few people in the universe to be able to bask in its radiance really labels her as the luckiest girl ever, doesn’t it? Anna watches Elsa turn into a corridor and finally decides to get up. Wait at the elevator—no problem. Not like she’s going to wander off anywhere. She’s a child at times, but this is a hospital. It isn’t some playground.

Anna reaches for her phone and opens up the app. The nearest driver is seven minutes away, which isn’t much of a wait. She glances out the windows along the hallway and sees that the sky has gotten gloomy again. Is it going to rain? Well, spring’s drawing near; it wouldn’t be surprising. Good thing she’s dressed warmly—

Wait.

She rubs the expanse of her neck. Where did her scarf go?

Anna twists from side to side; although, in hindsight, doing such a silly motion won’t help her find her scarf. It’s not like she’s tied it around her waist or anything. _Anyway._ Where did she put it? Let’s see—she for sure had it on when she left the Uber coming here. She starts backtracking. She went up the elevator, past the halls, and into the room, and then she sat down and… oh!

Her little _eureka!_ moment is ruined when she realizes that, _oh,_ it… it’s in Elsa’s grandfather’s room.

And he’s resting.

So she just has to—

No.

 _No_ , that’s just dumb. Don’t even think about it. It’s just a scarf. She can… _ugh._ Anna sighs. But she really likes it! Her mom knitted it for her last year, it’s deep green (reminds her of Christmas), and it keeps her warm.

Maybe she can just ask Elsa to have Gerda retrieve it?

No, no. She shouldn’t trouble anyone. Gerda probably has enough trouble to deal with, anyway. 

Fine then. It’s decided. She’ll just knock on the door, grab it quickly, and leave. Easy. If there’s no answer… then, well, she’ll decide from there.

It is for this reason that Anna finds herself standing in front of Elsa’s grandfather’s door with her knuckles hovering awkwardly in the air. Several people come and go, definitely giving her weird looks and whatnot even though she can’t exactly see with her eyes focused on that oakwood door, but she knows they’re judging. Like, what is this weirdo doing, miming outside a patient’s private room? She should get it together, because Elsa is probably by the elevator now, and their ride is going to be here soon.

So, in conclusion, _just knock!_

A deep breath. And then—

_Knock, knock_

Much to her chagrin, there really does come the same reply from earlier, _“Come in.”_

 _Damn it._ An answer. Another deep breath. _Breathe out._ She reaches for the handle.

“Excuse me,” she sticks her head in.

Runeard is very much doing the opposite of resting. Well, if one counts the fact that he is sitting in the bed as resting, then sure, he’s resting. But, no. He is most definitely working, with his square glasses hanging near the tip of his nose and a tablet in hand. “Miss Eriksen,” he removes those glasses. “How can I help you?”

Not going to lie, Anna’s more than relieved that Elsa’s grandfather is actually awake. It’d be rude to just sneak in here with an unaware, elderly man, lying vulnerable in bed. She’d rather do this honestly. “I’ve—I’m very sorry, but I think I’ve left my scarf in your room.”

“Ah,” he smiles, pointing to the chair that she had sat on earlier. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Anna follows his finger and finds her scarf easily. Not that it can be anywhere else. She comes into the room and grabs the scarf, holding it snugly in her chest. “Thank you, sir. I’m so sorry for disturbing you—”

“Miss Eriksen.”

“Yes?” she answers in a squeak. There’s something about being interrupted by this man that _commands_ her to present herself in the best way possible. Also, it isn’t often that someone addresses her as _Miss Eriksen._ So much for calling her _Anna._

His expression unreadable, Runeard folds his glasses up, placing them along with the tablet on the nightstand beside the bed. “You are a trusted friend of my granddaughter’s, I presume?”

… _what?_

Is this some sort of test? A challenge, maybe? She pinches the skin of her palm, all underneath her scarf, to force herself to focus. _Don’t back out._

“Yes, sir, I am.”

He hums.

What’s that supposed to mean? Does he approve? Does he hate her? Oh god. Anna clenches her jaw. _Don’t interrupt._

“She seems…” Runeard says in a soft voice, almost as though he is speaking to himself, “… happier.”

It is a good thing, yet why does instinct tell Anna that this man feels guilty?

He lets out a long exhale and leans back into the bed with closed eyes. “Tell me, Miss Eriksen” Runeard brings a hand up to the bridge of his nose—an action he seems to constantly do. God, he really does look tired. If Anna came closer, she is certain that she’d see dark circles and more wrinkles under his eyes. “How old are you?”

“I am seventeen, sir.”

“Seventeen.” He repeats.

There is a pause.

Muffled conversations from outside the room is heard. Slowly, the sounds drift farther, until they disappear. It is only then that Anna realizes how quiet it is. How awkward it is between the two. Her swallowing actually echoes in the room.

“Might you forgive an old man and indulge him in one more question?”

“I…” _what?_ God, he talks so funny. “… of course. No problem. How can I help you?”

Runeard is relaxed against his bed, but there is a small moment—one that Anna swears only lasted a millisecond—his blue eyes sharpen. Anna’s world shifts; gravity doesn’t exist—her brain feels like a paste.

H-he is glaring.

At _her_.

“What is your relationship with my granddaughter?”

Just remain calm _._

“S-she’s a friend—”

“Do you take me for a fool, Miss Eriksen?” he cuts her off in a calm tone, which ironically makes him even more intimidating.

Anna forgets how to breathe.

“Now, I will ask you once more,” Runeard states. “What is your relationship with Elsa?”

Oh god, there’s no way around it. He’s seen right through her. What should she do? Her throat is dry. It burns. Her palms are getting sweaty. She’s supposed to do this together with Elsa, but… _never mind._ What she needs to do is to approach this calmly. She’s fully capable of handling this herself. Can’t rely on Elsa. She can do this. _She can._

“I—we didn’t mean to hide this from you at all, sir. I apologize for not being truthful.” She lowers her head. “Elsa and I… we have been together for some time now. And we wanted to tell you at the right time, it’s just…”

Once again, an unreadable expression. “I see.”

It’s her move. This is the part where she defends herself—where she fights for Elsa. “I’m really sorry.”

Of all the things he does next, smirking is probably last of Anna’s guesses. A corner of his lips arches up; she isn’t sure if he’s judging or what. He just looks infinitely more frightening.

“Worry not.”

At last, Anna raises her head.

“I am old, but I am not backwards. Nor am I a barbarian.” He says nonchalantly. “My granddaughter’s relationships are none of my concern.”

 _Holy shit._ The relief.

“However,” Runeard starts again, voice all of a sudden stern. “Her future _is._ ”

Anna meets his gaze.

“I wasn’t able to give her a proper childhood,” he says—mutters, actually. “So, tell me, Miss Eriksen. What can you offer her? What can you give to make her happy?”

Blank. Anna’s jaw hangs loose. She doesn’t know what to say.

Then, as abrupt as these questions arose, Runeard drops them with a small, generous smile. “Ah, forgive me. Now’s the age for you to chase your dreams and passions. Not to worry about the future.”

She forces a smile.

“Please, ignore this old man’s monologue.” He reaches for a remote control dangling off the bed and presses something. The inclined part of the bed descends, creating this low humming noise, and Runeard shuts his eyes once more. “That will be all, Miss Eriksen. I apologize for keeping you.”

Anna clenches onto her scarf. She forces yet another smile. “No problem.” Anna heads for the door and steps outside. “Please rest well. Excuse me for the intrusion.”

They don’t even look at each other one last time. Anna’s only thought is to get out of that stuffy room. Escape the annoying beeping noises of those monitors. _Leave._ She wraps her scarf around her neck and heads towards the elevator. She’s received several texts, but she isn’t going to look. She doesn’t bother.

Finally, turning one more corner, she sees a certain blonde, standing idly by the elevators. When Elsa sees her, it’s always smiles and warmth. It’s always a burst of joy.

_But…_

“Anna!” Elsa calls, her voice ever so harmonious. She paces up to her. “Where did you go?”

She doesn’t hesitate. Anna takes the taller girl’s hand. “Sorry, I had to use the washroom.”

Elsa’s pink lips thin beautifully when she smiles. Her cheeks are permanently tinted in a delightful pink, and Anna believes she will never get tired of seeing her like this. “Let’s go home?” Elsa asks, looping her arm around Anna’s.

“Yeah,” her words come out weak, but Elsa doesn’t realize, because she knows that the blonde can get just as distracted by her smile. Anna’s smile.

Even if it’s forced.

But Elsa doesn’t have to know.

She certainly doesn’t have to know how lost Anna feels, nor does she need to know that Anna _can’t breathe._ This is something that Anna will never tell Elsa.

She’s had enough problems to deal with.

Losing parents at a young age, to constantly suffer from panic attacks because of it—these are things that are forever branded to her. So Anna can’t blame Elsa’s grandfather for saying those things, as much as it hurts. And, _yes,_ she’s admitting it now and _only_ now—it hurt; it practically singed her to her very core when Runeard basically asked if she can provide Elsa with a future.

Because she knows she can’t. It’s impossible.

After all, Anna is just a child.

But, _no. Keep it to yourself._

Elsa’s had enough. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need another burden that is Anna.

“When we get back,” Elsa starts, breaking the younger girl’s chain of thoughts.

Anna finds herself looking down at her feet. It takes all of her to fight gravity, to _look up—_ “Hm?”

Elsa bites her bottom lip. Her arm around Anna’s tenses a little. “W-would you be willing to listen to me?”

“Yes,” she says, barely raising her head. But it assures Elsa when they make eye contact, which is why the smile that comes after for both of them is involuntary. “Trust me when I say that I want to know more about you.”

The blonde’s expression is radiant. It never fails to amaze Anna—Elsa is literally a _star._ If all the galaxies converged, Anna believes that Elsa, standing amongst the infinite lifeforms that span across the universe, would still be the one that shines the brightest.

“I’ll tell you everything.” Elsa’s lips press against her temple. “ _Everything.”_

She leans into the kiss. “Yeah.”

And as this girl (whom she adores so, so, _so_ much) continues to shine brightly, Anna thinks that she herself is merely some superfluous, insignificant anomaly, existing only to eclipse Elsa’s light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was NOT fun to write. i imagine it wasn't fun to read but hey, plot!!!!


	20. interlude - i

_“Wonderful job!” Mr. Matthias claps his hands in the proudest, most joyous way. “Absolutely wonderful!”_

_His smile reaches his youthful, chocolate brown eyes, and Elsa thinks that she has never seen him happier. She grins in response, a faint blush spreading from her neck up to her cheeks, and she lowers her head, humbly looking at the glossy white and black keys in front of her._

_“Thank you, Mr. Matthias,” despite her shyness, her own smile can be heard when she speaks._

_“Wow. When your parents return, they will be so proud!” he says, the enthusiasm never leaving. “To be able to play an etude of Rachmaninoff’s by the age of eight? You truly are talented, Elsa. I don’t—” Mr. Matthias chuckles, “—I don’t think there’s anything more I can teach you. In fact, I barely did anything!”_

_“Oh, no, d-don’t say that…” Elsa breaks out of her smile, suddenly dejected with the feeling that she will no longer have lessons with her favourite teacher. “You helped me a lot. Especially with the… um. Notes. And the counting! I get lost all the time because of all the stuff all over the music…”_

_“You don’t have to come up with excuses just to make me feel better about myself, Elsa,” he says, his expression soft. “I enjoy your company as well. It’s nice to have a student who actually practices and see her hard work paying off.” Mr. Matthias places his large hand on her head. “I’m sure your parents will be so happy when you play for them.”_

_At the mention of her parents, another grin spreads across her flushed cheeks. “I want to perform like them too when I grow up.”_

_“That you will,” her piano teacher says with confidence. “Maybe you can even record in the studio like them? Sell your own line of CDs?”_

_They break into a melodic laughter._

_“When are they returning, by the way?” Mr. Matthias asks._

_“Tonight,” she answers, blue round eyes sparkling with life._

_“Well,” he smiles, “Let’s hear it one more time, shall we? Make sure everything’s perfect so that they’d be just as amazed as me.”_

_“Okay!”_

* * *

_A muffled sound wakes her. Elsa stirs in her bed. Weird, she was sure she fell asleep downstairs? Did her nanny carry her up to her room? No… she never does that._

_Oh!_

_Her mother and father are home! They probably carried her upstairs. Ecstatic, she jumps up, her tiny feet touch the carpeted floor, and she runs down the stairs._

_The muffled sounds become louder, and Elsa hears that it is music. It flows through the house as naturally as air. A piano and a cello playing together—a marriage of two beautiful sounds. But it’s too synthetic. It can’t possibly come from her mother or her father’s playing. There are even vocals. It’s muffled, but she can pick out a few words. Something about falling in love._

_Through the muted darkness in the house, Elsa finds light in the living room. Her mother’s laughter, her father’s chuckles, all blend together so well with the harmonious sounds playing in the background. Elsa peeks into the room, and her heart swells at the sight._

_Her father, holding her mother by the waist, and her mother, leaning her head into his shoulder as they sway with the steady rhythm. There is an odd machine, a box with a large horn on top of it resting on the small table next to the piano. But her attention on the curious musical box doesn’t last; she is more intrigued by her parents. The way they are so entranced by each other, as though the world around them does not exist. The way they stare romantically at each other, smiling. Even an eight-year-old such as herself can see the love. And it’s admirable; she loves that her parents are the embodiment of a princess and her prince. How they are dancing in a hidden location, far away from the party, where all the noise is._

_It’s a fairy tale, right in front of her eyes._

_And Elsa wonders._

_Maybe… when she grows up, she can find a love like this for herself._

_“… Elsa?”_

_She gasps. “Mama, papa, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just—”_

_“Oh, silly girl,” the woman laughs. “Did you just wake up?”_

_Elsa fiddles with her fingers. “I’m sorry. I thought you were coming home sooner. I didn’t know I fell asleep…”_

_“Don’t apologize,” her father says. He spreads an arm, reaching out to his daughter. “Come, join us!”_

_She shakes her head. “It’s okay, I can watch.”_

_Her father exaggerates a gasp. Her mother, likewise, heightens the tension by acting surprised._

_“Did I just get rejected by my own daughter?” Her father rests his hands on his hips, approaching Elsa like a predator about to pounce on his prey._

_Elsa, trying her hardest to suppress her toothy grin, starts backing up._

_But her playful father follows, and soon, she’s running through the house, with him coming close on her tail. A few laps around the first floor and a careless turn later, Elsa bumps into a doorframe—forehead hitting first and everything—and she tumbles onto the ground, sniffling as tears stream down her face._

_“Oh, baby girl,” her father comes to pick her up, “I’m so sorry,” kisses her on where she’s hurt herself. “Please forgive me?”_

_But she can’t look up! Elsa wants to hide; what she did was so foolish, so embarrassing! She buries herself in his shirt, silently crying those tears away._

_A warm hand comes to brush along her back. Elsa knows that it is her mother’s touch. It’s always much gentler and so soothing. “Let me see that, Elsa,”_

_Elsa voluntary reaches for her mother, slipping out her father’s grasp and ends up hiding in the woman’s neck instead._

_“Aw, it’s okay…” she draws back, brushing Elsa’s platinum blonde hair away from her forehead to inspect the injury. “It’s just a little red. There won’t be a bruise!”_

_“Yeah, you’re a big girl. You can take a little bump in the forehead!”_

_Her mother clucks her tongue, shooting Elsa’s father an annoyed look. “Ignore your father. He’s the worst,” she says with a smile. “Now, I heard from Mr. Matthias that someone’s learned a certain Rachmaninoff piece while we were gone…”_

_“Rachmaninoff?” Her father breathes in sharply. “Wow, Elsa! That’s incredible!”_

_Slowly, the embarrassment recedes. Her excited little heart thumps against her tiny chest, a smile spreading across her cheeks._

_Her parents seem to notice, and in the most unified performance, her mother starts, “Will you play for us?”_

_Where her father joins in soon, much like a musical canon, “We would love to be your audience.”_

_Elsa is carefully placed back onto the ground. Both her parents are kneeling down to meet her at eye-level, and Elsa has never seen them look prouder. Though nervous, she is quite excited to perform for them. She has been working hard with Mr. Matthias for two whole weeks! Elsa brings her fingers together, twirling them as she comes up with something to say._

_“But I-I’m not really good at it…”_

_“Nonsense,” her mother pushes a strand of blonde hair behind the little girl’s ear. “You’ll be lovely.”_

_“Come on, Elsa,” her father takes her hand, leading her back to the room where music is still playing. “Show us what you got!”_

_“Honey, turn off the record player first.”_

_“Ah, yes,” her father scrambles towards the musical device. “We’re shutting Elvis up for our daughter, can you believe that?”_

_Elsa giggles. She doesn’t know who Elvis is, but she finds her father’s enthusiasm to be funny. Without another word, she scurries over to the piano bench, eager to show her parents what she can do._

* * *

_They promised that next month, for their performance in Japan, they can go together. For the first time, Elsa can go with them!_

_She’s always left at home because of school, but since their performance is going span across three weeks during the summer, she’s finally allowed to go with them. She can spend her summer vacation in Japan, with her parents. Sure, they go camping every year, but this is something new. This is the most exciting thing ever!_

_Elsa’s so well prepared that she’s learned how to use chopsticks; she’s even got her classmate who is Japanese to teach her a few words of greeting, thinking that it would come in handy when she’s there. And even though it’s still early-June and that there are a couple more weeks of school left, Elsa’s already got everything packed._

_Her favourite stuffed-penguin Sir Jorgenbjorgen that is practically torn with little fuzzes sticking out here and there, a few books she’s already read several times, her favourite blankie, and a little golden cello keychain that she’s having the most trouble clipping onto her luggage._

_It’s okay, though. She can just ask her father to clip it on for her when he gets home later._

_She’s finished her homework and did her chores; her nanny can be proof! Elsa rummages through the things that she’s packed, again and again—because there is absolutely no way anything is going to come between her and this trip! Or… okay, well._

_Elsa takes Sir Jorgenbjorgen out of the luggage._

_Maybe she can sleep with the penguin until the time comes. When it comes, she’ll pack him snugly back into the luggage._

_Then, very unusually, the doorbell rings._

_It is weird, because Elsa doesn’t have lessons for anything today. Is it one of those weirdos that come to sell things at the door? Curiosity gets the better of her and she heads downstairs. Elsa’s always loved listening on awkward conversations between adults. It helps that her nanny isn’t the most patient person ever—which is why her mother always says that it is a blessing Elsa isn’t one of those bratty kids._

_Elsa sticks her head down from the staircase, slipping lower and lower until she can catch a glimpse of the main door. Sure enough, her nanny’s already greeted whoever it is. From where she is, Elsa can see that the person at the door is tall, imposing. Man, he’s so big, he’s almost blocking the entire doorway!_

_“Elsa?” her nanny calls._

_She squeaks, runs back upstairs to her room._

_“Elsa, dear, would you come down please?”_

_She clutches onto Sir Jorgenbjorgen, gathering him in her arms and answers back, “C-coming!”_

_Very obediently, despite her pounding heart, Elsa makes her way down the stairs. What can possibly be the reason she’s called down? Is it a classmate’s dad coming to scold her? I-it’s not her fault she got higher marks than that annoying Darla. That girl always tries to glance at Elsa’s answers during quizzes! The teacher’s caught her several times, but she still does it. And Darla is a big bully as well. She’s always so mean to the pet clown fish in the classroom! If… if her dad really is here to scold Elsa, then she will stand her ground. She’s done nothing wrong!_

_Elsa enters the living room. Her nanny, standing quietly on one end of the room, while this man, whom she’s never met before—standing so, so, so tall!—is eyeing her solemnly. Like she really did something wrong._

_She swallows the lump down her throat. The only thing going on in her mind right now is that this man’s moustache is really scary._

_“This is her?” he says, his deep voice practically reverberating in the room._

_The nanny nods. “Yes, sir.”_

_Elsa swallows again. No words come to her. She doesn’t know what’s happening. Who is this stranger in her house? She wants her mama and papa, b-but she’s a big girl now, no? She can handle this herself. Can’t depend on her parents all the time._

_“W-who are you?” her voice barely comes out, its volume paling in comparison to the man’s._

_He doesn’t react immediately. In fact, he just sighs. It isn’t until a couple moments later that he approaches._

_Elsa, by reflex, takes a single step back. She steels herself. Don’t back out!_

_And then he kneels in front of her—a gesture that is seemingly meant to ease her guard, but she still needs to look up to meet his eyes._

_“I am your grandfather.”_

_She blinks. What… what is she supposed to say? Her mother and father never said anything about her grandparents. Her father in particular—Elsa’s seen him get sad whenever the topic of his family comes up. So how can she even believe this man? This… stranger?_

_“I… I don’t know you. I need to call mama and papa.”_

_“Elsa,” he speaks quietly, eyes softening. They look a bit red—like he’s cried. Elsa knows this because this is how she looks like when she cries. And his irises. They’re a nice, familiar, icy blue. Much like her father’s._

_“Y-yes?” she says._

_The man breathes out. “There…” he tries but can only look away, clenching at his jaw, “… there was an accident,”_

_She tenses. Elsa’s confused little mind wanders about. She looks around the room, at her nanny. Why does she look so sad? She looks at the clock on the wall. The pendulums sway in slow-motion. She looks back at this man._

_Tears. His eyes are glistening with tears. And then._

_And then she struggles to breathe._

_“Your father and mother,” he says._

_… no, please._

_Please don’t finish—_

_“They’re not coming back anymore.”_

_—no—_

_“Elsa.”_

_—they were just here this morning—_

_“My child,”_

_—a-and summer is coming—_

_“… do you understand me?”_

_—they were supposed to travel together._

_“Elsa.”_

_…_

_Deep breaths._

_“I…”_

_But she trembles._

_“I’m…”_

_The stranger who calls himself her grandfather reaches for her hands. His larger ones are so cold. But then Elsa notices something else._

_She raises her head, not even realizing how heavy it has gotten. Her grandfather’s hands are shaking, perhaps even more so than herself. And as more tears stream down his cheeks, Elsa feels a weight in her chest. But she forces herself to smile._

_Mama and papa have always told her that it is the brightest and warmest thing ever, that it can make anyone happy._

_So she comes in close, tiptoeing to wrap her skinny arms around her grandfather’s neck as she tries her hardest not to cry._

* * *

_Car accident._

_What really is a car accident?_

_In the cartoons that she so rarely watches, it usually involves a car colliding into something, followed by some over-the-top explosion. The characters would always come out harmless—at most a bruise—and for some reason, Elsa would always find it to be silly, so she would laugh._

_Papa and mama would watch with her, and they would laugh together._

_But her parents do not come out harmless. They do not come out with a simple bruise. They do not come out at all._

_She’s overhead it. Her grandfather never said anything, but she’s heard the people talking at the funeral. Something about the accident being too severe. How the truck hit their car, practically T-boning it, and their bodies. How they’re too mangled. She remembers that word specifically. Because she looked it up. That’s the thing about her—she has a curious mind. She looked it up and came across so many pictures._

_It’s no wonder they said it’s too much for a child to see. Too much for anyone to see._

_And these images have burned into her mind, somehow. Before a meal, in the middle of the night, or at school, Elsa finds herself running to the washroom to vomit. Because she sees it. Her parents. Blood. Dismembered limbs. Mangled._

_That’s what car accidents do._

_But she can’t cry. She’s a big girl. Her parents liked it when acted like a big girl._

_So don’t cry._

_She pretends that she’s okay. Pretends that at night, she isn’t hiding under her pillow. Pretends that she’s doing well as she always does at school._

_But how much can a child pretend when she’s found screaming in her sleep? How well can she do at school when she secludes herself from her friends, hides in the bathroom to cry at lunch time, and succumbs to panic attacks in the middle of class?_

_She can’t pretend._

_It’s out of her control._

_It’s gotten so bad, she can’t even go to school anymore._

* * *

_“Gerda?”_

_“Yes, my dear?”_

_Elsa’s little hand grips tightly onto the woman’s frailer one. She hesitates._

_Her caretaker smiles. She bends down and pats her lightly on the head. “It’ll be okay, Miss Elsa. I’ll be right outside.”_

_Elsa tugs at her bottom lip. “I-I don’t want to go in.”_

_“Is the doctor unkind? We can find you someone else?”_

_“No, she’s really nice, but…”_

_Gerda maintains her smile. She brushes a strand of loose hair behind the girl’s ear. Something that her mother used to do—and it makes Elsa feel more assured. If only a little._

_“… every time I see her, I cry.” Elsa says in a whisper, like she doesn’t want anyone to know. She lowers her head. “I don’t want to cry.”_

_The woman brushes at Elsa’s bangs, pushing them apart so that her eyes would show. “But, Miss Elsa, it’s okay to cry. You cry to let it out, don’t you?”_

_She shakes her head. “That’s what they all tell me. But I don’t want to.”_

_“Why?”_

_Elsa tries to appear small. “… I’m older now. I don’t have to cry.”_

_“Oh, dear girl,” Gerda says sadly. “Grown-ups cry, too. And it’s okay for us to cry.”_

_“I know,” Elsa says, remembering that day when her grandfather informed her of the news. But what she remembers most isn’t how the man, so tall and imposing, broke down into tears. It was how, as he cried, Elsa felt her chest get heavier and heavier. She remembers how uncomfortable it is to see another person shed tears._

_It doesn’t feel nice._

_It doesn’t feel right to give somebody else such a burden._

* * *

_“What makes you happy, Elsa?” her therapist asks._

_She closes her eyes. Same question. She’s heard this a million times from all the other doctors. “I don’t know.” She answers accordingly._

_“Okay,” he says with a gentle smile. “Then, what did you like doing when you were younger?”_

_Elsa sighs. What she wants to say is to be left alone, but she promised Gerda. She promised that she would try this time. Because she never did give any of the other therapists a chance. “I don’t really remember.”_

_“Hm,” he nods. “Did you… like to play video games?”_

_She shakes her head._

_“What about movies? Did you like watching them?”_

_She liked to curl between mama and papa every Friday night. She liked to fall asleep on cue whenever the credits rolled. She liked that she could pretend to be asleep when they tucked her in bed, kissed her on the forehead._

_“No.”_

_“Did you like going outside to play?”_

_She liked to go camping with them. Get lost in the wild. Sit by the campfire. Wake up to the smell of morning dew._

_“Not really.”_

_“Oh,” he tilts his head. “What about music?”_

_She twitches._

_“Did you play an instrument?”_

_Yes. She loves the piano. The cello. But she’s better with the piano, because holding up the cello is really tiring. She loves the two instruments playing in duet, how their sounds blend together so well. How they remind her so deeply of her parents whom she loves so much._

_“… yes.”_

_Elsa gasps. Oh, no. She didn’t mean to say that out loud. She didn’t—_

_“Ah, I play the guitar myself!” he states, enthusiastic. And then he goes on, in a much sadder voice, “It’s been a while, though. I would love to pick it up again.”_

_“Why…” Elsa starts before she can stop herself. “… why haven’t you?”_

_“No time,” he laughs. “When you get older, you have other stuff to deal with, you know? I used to love writing music. I’m not a good singer, but I loved recording myself and posting it up online.”_

_Elsa listens, curious that this young doctor, looking so intelligent and proper, is actually into music._

_“I didn’t get a lot of views, if you were wondering,” he grins._

_And, strangely, Elsa feels a smile forming on her face._

_“So,” her therapist gives her a grin in return. “What instrument did you play?”_

_Elsa looks down at her fingers in her lap. She starts tapping on her thighs very, very subtly. An old Rachmaninoff piece she used to play._

_Muscle memory._

_“I…” she begins, looking up slowly. “… t-the piano and a bit of the cello.”_

* * *

_On her idle time from then on, Elsa would stay in the music room within the estate. It’s in another building from the main mansion, and so she can play as loudly as she wants._

_When she’s not at school or sleeping, she would be there._

_It’s nice._

_Being with the instrument takes her back in time._

_Just for a bit._

* * *

_She goes back to school by seventh grade. A brand-new school in a brand-new city._

_Makes sense; she’s moved into her grandfather’s estate, which naturally means she’s no longer living in the town where her parents’ house is at._

_He’s rarely home, though. If he’s not having meetings in Germany or Barcelona or Rome, he’s busy working at the firm. Gerda tells her that he likes working. Being a revered architect and the founder of his company, her grandfather is somewhat of a perfectionist and a workaholic._

_“But it’s his birthday today,” a twelve-year-old Elsa says at the table, looking across from it—supposedly where her grandfather would sit on the rare occasions that he does come home._

_“Yes, my dear,” Gerda rests a palm on her back. “But you know your grandfather,” she sighs. “You know how he can be when it comes to work.”_

_Elsa tries not to look disappointed._

_She can give him the gift another time._

_Which gives her the idea._

_The next day, after school, she asks the driver to take her to her grandfather’s firm._

_“But, Miss Elsa, I’m supposed to drive you back to the estate—”_

_“Please?” she looks at him through the rear mirror hopefully. She’s never asked for anything. “Just this once? I really want to give him his gift. It was his birthday yesterday, you see.”_

_The driver gives in. It must be because she’s well-behaved and well-mannered. She thanks him warmly when she gets out of the car, making her way into a very, very tall, futuristic building. Elsa knows for a fact that she’s in the right place when she sees her own last name engraved onto the metal sign right outside. When the electronic doors part for her, she sees that more of her last name. It appears on the sign plastered across the front desk, embroidered elegantly in bright silver on the carpets, and they’re even on the many screens that are hanging on the pillars. Her grandfather sure is incredible to have built a company like this._

_She makes her way up to the front desk, clutching onto the present in her hands. Her backpack feels heavy even though there is only one textbook and her pencil case inside._

_“E-excuse me.” Elsa says._

_One of the receptionists, a pretty lady with tanned skin and dark hair, leans over. “Oh, how can I help you, my dear?”_

_“I… I’m looking for my grandfather.”_

_The lady stands up and walks around the desk. Her beautiful, silky hair flows with her movements, and when she bends down a little to speak with Elsa, the girl finds the faint scent of her lavender perfume to be pleasant. “Does he work here?” she asks. “Can you give me his name?”_

_Elsa swallows. “Um. It’s Runeard, he’s—”_

_“Oh my goodness!” she exclaims._

_Elsa nearly jumps backwards. At the corner of her eyes, Elsa sees the other receptionist behind the desk perking her head up._

_“You must be Elsa!”_

_She doesn’t know what to say. Elsa just nods._

_“Aw, you’re prettier than they say you are! Okay, come right this way. I’ll take you to him.”_

_The other woman cuts her off. “Uh, he’s in the middle of a presentation, Esmeralda.”_

_“Ah, you’re right,” the dark-haired lady clucks her tongue._

_Elsa sees how conflicted she is. “I don’t mind waiting,” she says meekly._

_“Aren’t you the sweetest,” she smiles. “Okay, I’ll take you upstairs to your grandfather’s lounge, and you can wait there until he’s done, okay?”_

_She nods again. This time, smiling._

_The atmosphere upstairs is completely different. Sure, it’s still futuristic and everything, but being on the top floor, she gets a panoramic view of the sky. There is a single room on this entire floor, which she assumes to be her grandfather’s as it has yet another metallic sign of their last name plastered on the door._

_“Right this way, Elsa,” the lady says._

_Elsa follows her, and she ends up in a large seating area that gives her access to the other side of the city, stretching the panoramic view to three-hundred-sixty degrees. Which is when she realizes—this entire floor is like a donut, with the elevator at the centre. When Elsa looks beyond the glass windows, she sees that this entire floor is surrounded by a sky garden. She has the urge to run outside, to look down upon the city, to run through the flowers and the trees, but she shouldn’t act so childishly._

_“Do you want something to drink?” the lady asks as Elsa sits down on the sofa. “A hot chocolate?”_

_Tempting. She… hasn’t had anything but a small sandwich. Elsa usually doesn’t eat much, because she likes spending time at the library. And you’re not allowed to eat in the library, so._

_“Is… is it okay?”_

_“Oh, of course it is!” she grabs a mug, yet again with Elsa and her grandfather’s last name on it, placing it on this machine-thing. She presses a few buttons, and suddenly, it starts steaming. Dark brown liquid comes out, pouring gradually into the mug. “Here you go,” the lady sits down beside Elsa. “Careful, it’s hot.”_

_“Thank you,” she says, blowing at the steam gently._

_A sound of amusement comes from the nice lady. “I’m going to have to head back downstairs, Elsa. You okay by yourself?”_

_She bobs her head. “Yes, I’ll be okay.”_

_“Good,” the lady stands. “There are snacks over there by the coffee machine. Restrooms are right that way if you need,” she points further along the hall. “Hope your grandfather likes the present!”_

_Elsa grins._

_And the woman is off._

_She is so kind. Elsa thinks to herself, when she grows up, she wants to be as elegant and cheerful as that receptionist. She wants to be likeable and approachable as well._

* * *

_Her grandfather doesn’t come upstairs until, perhaps, two hours later. Elsa uses the time wisely; she finishes her homework within the first hour. She revises her answers for the next hour. Finally, she spends the remainder of the time perfecting the wrap around the present. Her grandfather is all about aesthetics, after all._

_The familiar_ ding _of the elevator chimes in the background. Elsa sits upright, quickly shoving her books and stationery into her backpack. She grabs the gift and paces her way along the wall, anxious to give her grandfather the gift._

_“… mustn’t strain yourself like this, Master Runeard.” Kai’s voice._

_Elsa stops moving._

_“I’m fine.”_

_A sigh. “Have you taken your medication for today, sir?”_

_“Ah, yes,” says her grandfather’s tired voice. “Thank you for reminding me, Kai.”_

_Elsa takes careful steps. She hears the sound of a door opening—her grandfather’s office door._

_“Are you certain you want to undertake this project?” Kai’s voice is quieter. They’ve gone into the room. “It could take years. The more crucial factor is that it will take meticulous planning and supervision.”_

_“It is a commitment, indeed,” her grandfather says._

_A pause._

_“Sir… if I may?”_

_Elsa can practically hear her grandfather frown._

_“What is it?”_

_“Perhaps it’s better that you allow someone else to take on the project? I am telling you this as a friend—you aren’t as young as you used to be.”_

_Her grandfather chuckles. “Leave it to one of those incompetent fools and let them ruin the reputation of my company?”_

_“Well—”_

_“I don’t exactly have anyone trustworthy to pass this mantle to, Kai.”_

_Silence._

_“My fool of a son certainly wasn’t considerate of his old man.”_

_Elsa freezes._

_“Sir…”_

_“Threw everything I’ve built for him back at me,” he laughs. “Can you believe it? All for a woman. And what’s left?” Runeard’s voice softens. “… A sad, pitiful child growing up in a broken family.”_

_Hearing that, Elsa hugs the gift more tightly._

_“… Never mind.” Her grandfather states, reverting back to his usual, calm voice. “Would you mind getting down the details of the contract? I will need to meet with the rest of the developers for this project to go through.”_

_“Yes,” Kai says. “Right away.”_

_A click of a door closing, and then yet another_ ding _of the elevator._

_Elsa waits a few more moments before heading to the elevator herself. She doesn’t look back at her grandfather’s closed doors. Doesn’t want to. When the elevator arrives, she quickly runs in and presses for the ground floor. In the small span of time in the tiny space, she unzips her backpack and places the gift inside._

_In the end, the little model of a miniature cello she’s made in ceramics class is left under her bed. She highly doubts her grandfather would ever want it._

_So, whatever._

* * *

_“Elsa?”_

_She stops, holding the books close to her chest. The man’s voice is familiar. Slowly, she turns. Then, she sees—_

_“Mr. Matthias…?”_

_She bumps into her former piano teacher by her sophomore year in high school._

_“Oh my, haven’t you grown!”_

_Elsa approaches him with a warm smile. “And you still look as handsome as ever.”_

_“Aw,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Always so sweet with your words. I didn’t know you came to Arendelle.”_

_“Yes,” she nods. “I attended since last year.”_

_“I see.”_

_There is a solemn, knowing pause._

_It’s inevitable. Elsa should have expected it. Which is why it does not faze her when Mr. Matthias brings it up—_

_“How… how have you been?”_

_“I have been well,” she answers immediately. It’s a routine by now. “Thank you for asking.”_

_Yet, her response always seems to irk people. Especially to those whom she used to be close with. Old classmates, friends of her parents’… it’s all the same._

_“So,” Mr. Matthias goes on. “Have you been practicing your pieces?”_

_No. Not much. Not since…_

_“I try when I have time,” Elsa says instead. “High school is busier than I thought.”_

_“Ah, but you know I won’t buy that,” he comments playfully. “Even though I’m not your piano teacher anymore, I can still scold you for coming up with excuses for not practicing.”_

_She giggles, hiding her lips behind the knuckles of her forefinger. Genuinely, Mr. Matthias’s presence makes her happy._

_“Why don’t you come by the music room some time?”_

_Elsa stiffens._

_Mr. Matthias seems to notice her hesitation. He comes closer, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Only if you want to. It’ll be nice to hear you play again.”_

_She considers his words carefully. It is true that she hasn’t touched the piano for a long time, but… on the other hand, she’s not sure if she should. In turn, Elsa offers the kind man another smile. “Thank you, Mr. Matthias,” she says. “I’ll think about it.”_

_“Alright, you do that,” he walks off. “We got a new Steinway grand piano in the room. It sounds…” he pauses to pinch his fingers at his lips, making a chef’s kiss, “… like heaven.”_

_Elsa giggles again._

_She’s definitely been itching to play, though._

* * *

_With every opportunity she gets to play music, her condition greatly improves. The night terrors don’t happen anymore, and Elsa finds that not only playing music, but listening to music as well, helps. It’s nice to be protected by a barrier of sound. Mute the entire world. Close herself in a bubble._

_She would hum along to the music._

_Sometimes, Elsa would sing out loud—not too loud. She’s not that confident as a singer._

_“… you have a beautiful voice.”_

_Elsa’s breath hitches. She removes her earphones and spins in her seat. Her grandfather is at the door of her room._

_“G-grandfather,” she stands up to greet him as her heart hammers against her chest._

_He gives her a faint smile._

_“I’m so sorry,” Elsa says. “I didn’t know you were here. Can… can I help you?”_

_Her grandfather raises a palm. “Don’t worry about me. Carry on. I’ll see you at dinner.”_

_Disappointment would have been the last thing she felt, had he not followed up with—_

_“Elvis…”_

_She widens her eyes._

_“… was your father’s favourite artist. He loved his songs since he was a child.”_

_This time, Elsa gasps, much louder than before._

_“Especially that song you were singing just now.” And then he walks away._

_The sound of his footsteps grow faint. Elsa is left standing there, frozen. She reaches blindly behind herself for her phone, sees the name of the song, and smiles._

_She brings a hand up to her forehead, rubbing along an imaginary bruise._

* * *

_“Are you sure you don’t want to take this home, Elsa?” Mr. Matthias asks with the hefty glass trophy in his hands. “It would certainly look nice next to your piano. Much better than in this stuffy music room, anyway.”_

_She shakes her head. “Our music room is eerily empty. It would look nicer in here.”_

_He hums, expression still filled with uncertainty._

_Elsa tries again, “I’m sure it would encourage your students to try harder.”_

_“Oh, you overestimate them,” Mr. Matthias laughs. “Nobody is as hardworking or as talented as you!”_

_She blushes. “N-no, I’m just…”_

_“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing.” Mr. Matthias’s laughter softens. “Have you considered joining the next tier?”_

_“I… don’t think I would qualify.”_

_“Nonsense!” he says adamantly. “Elsa, you are literally a prodigy. And I am not just saying this because you’re my favourite student, you hear me? If you are truly considering to pursue music in the future, this would definitely help build your resume.”_

_Elsa bites her lower lip. It has become a sort of habit when she’s nervous._

_“Really, really think about it.”_

_Well… it’s not like she has any other interests in particular. Playing music does ease her mind. She’s at her calmest when she sits at the piano bench. Maybe she can experiment a little for now. She can always change her mind later, right? She’s still a junior, after all._

_“Okay,” Elsa says. “I… I think I can try it out.”_

* * *

_“And this would be…” Mrs. LeClair, the senior advisor, counts her fingers, “… the twelfth school to have accepted you on scholarship?”_

_Elsa blushes, fidgeting in her seat._

_“Elsa, don’t be shy, this is incredible!” the woman says, evidently more excited than the recipient in question. “Does Mr. Matthias know about this?”_

_“I think so,” she answers in her usual soft voice. “He’s the one who referred me. I’m sure some of his closer acquaintances have told him by now.”_

_“That’s wonderful,” she smiles. “Truly. It is spectacular how much you’ve achieved, Elsa.”_

_“No, I didn’t do much,” Elsa says._

_“Mhmm, you really didn’t,” Mrs. LeClair plays along. “Just won about twenty-four competitions over the past year and had all your trophies and medals placed in the school’s music room.”_

_Oh, no. When she puts it like that…_

_“I-it’s no wonder people don’t seem to like me. I guess it really does make me appear egotistical.”_

_“Now, don’t think that way, Elsa,” Mrs. LeClair rolls her chair over, coming closer to the blonde. “You’re nothing like that. Just do what you want to do, and ignore all the haters, okay?”_

_The way her advisor smiles at her, the way she always treats her so kindly—it’s everything that Elsa needs. Just someone nice whom she can talk with. “Thank you, Mrs. LeClair.”_

_The woman rests her delicate palm on Elsa’s shoulder, patting her as a form of encouragement. “Have you decided on a school yet?”_

_“No, I…” Elsa starts. “There are so many choices… I really have to look into them.”_

_“Yes, that makes sense. Do it soon, though. Even though the deadline isn’t until April, you don’t want to leave it last minute. But, what am I saying? You’re not the type to procrastinate.”_

_That is quite true. Elsa just smiles, trying her best to look smaller in her seat._

Bzz bzz

_She gasps. “I-I’m so sorry, Mrs. LeClair—I didn’t mean to leave my cellphone on…”_

_“Oh, calm down,” the advisor gives her a playful eye-roll. “It’s your free period. And do I seem like one of those strict, overbearing teachers?”_

_Elsa giggles. “No, not at all.” Mrs. LeClair is one of the school’s most popular teachers. She’s beautiful, kind, gentle, and is a great pleasure to talk to. There is no way that anyone can dislike this woman._

Bzz bzz

_“I’m sorry, I think I need to take this…” Elsa stands. Truth be told, her phone’s been vibrating the entire time she’s been here. It’s not often she gets such persistent messages—it’s probably just spam._

_“No worries. I’ll be right here when you need me.”_

_She gives her advisor a courteous nod and excuses herself, closing the door behind her to stand alone in the advising suite. Elsa takes her phone out of her pocket and sees several messages—not just the two she’s received._

_All of them are from Gerda. There are three missed calls from her as well._

_‘Miss Elsa, please call me as soon as possible.’ – 13:19._

_‘Miss Elsa, this is urgent. Call me back, please.’ – 13:24._

_‘It’s about Master Runeard.’ –13:26._

_‘Miss Elsa, we are at the hospital in downtown—the one closer to the firm.’ – 13:53._

_She doesn’t think twice. Fingers trembling, Elsa presses onto Gerda’s name._

_“Hello?” the woman picks up in an instant._

_“Gerda? What happened? Is he okay?” Elsa asks in one breath._

_A pause. There is a sigh on the other end of the phone. “I… I am unsure…”_

_Elsa clenches her fist to stop the shaking._

_“Master Runeard is currently in the operation room. He’s had a heart attack—”_

_She doesn’t hear the rest. Elsa doesn’t even bother packing her things as she rushes to call for a cab, to take her to the hospital._

* * *

_Elsa stops, right at the entrance. The doors are right there. Literally. Up the steps, through the glass doors—and she’d be inside._

_But she can’t move._

_Distant sounds of the ambulance. The red and white lights of the sirens. Injured people on stretchers being rushed inside. At a glance, it looks as if an accident has just happened. Somebody even has one of those oversized, orange head stabilizers on them, their shirt bloodied, the paramedics spouting a bunch of medical jargon as they speed by._

_A-are there more inside?_

_Are they okay?_

_She hopes they’ll be okay, she really does._

_There’s nothing she can do, but please._

_Don’t… don’t end up like her parents._

_Don’t—_

_“Out of the way!”_

_She gasps, nearly tripping as she tries to move. Elsa stumbles to a pillar, leaning her back against it as she brings her shaking hands up to her chest. It isn’t until then that she realizes she’s hyperventilating. Literally. Every breath she takes—it doesn’t go into her lungs. It gets trapped in her throat._

_And she gags._

_S-she can’t breathe._

_Oh no._

_Why is she so dizzy?_

_Her legs feel weak. She can’t stand._

_There is an excruciating pain in her heart. Like a million needles are stabbing into her. Drilling deep inside. God. It hurts. Her eyes burn with tears as she claws and claws and_ claws _at her chest. Wants to get the needles out. Wants to stop this. Wants this to stop._

_Please stop._

_Please._

_She doesn’t want to be like this anymore._

_She wants to breathe._

_Elsa closes her eyes, the last thing she sees is white._

_Just pure whiteness. A void._

* * *

_She blinks awake_

_“… Miss Elsa? Oh, my, Miss Elsa! Thank the heavens!”_

_Her vision is layered with this blur—like there’s smoke in the room. Elsa gasps for air but soon realizes that there is a tight ventilation mask wrapped around her nose and mouth, its plastic bands strapped in a way that they dig into her skin._

_“Take it easy, Miss Elsa. I’ll go get the doctor—”_

_She grabs her caretaker’s hand before she can move. “G-grandfather…” she manages through the mask. “Is he okay?”_

_Even though her voice doesn’t exactly come out, Gerda responds, as she always does. She comes close, resting her hand on top of the girl’s. “He’ll be fine. Don’t you worry,” she tells her with a confident voice, something that always reassures Elsa. “He just came out of the operation room. PCI—something about opening up the blood vessels in his heart, to clear up the plaque,” she says. “Kai is speaking with the doctors.”_

_Elsa sighs in relief. She knows what that surgery is—she’s looked up all the possible heart problems, diseases, and surgeries on the way here. Percutaneous coronary intervention. Not a big surgery. It will be good on her grandfather on the long term. She closes her eyes, whispering to herself, “That’s good.”_

_A hand comes to her forehead._

_Her eyelids flutter open, catching her caretaker’s kind, hazel eyes. The woman smiles tenderly at her as she brushes at the girl’s bangs, parting them in a way that she used to when she was younger. In this small, quiet moment, Elsa can’t help but to think. Has Gerda gotten older? Now that they are so close, Elsa can see the wrinkles on her caretaker’s forehead. She can see how, as the woman’s thin brows crease together in worry, faint lines form at the corner of her eyes. Gerda looks so tired, and Elsa knows for a fact that taking care of her all these years has definitely put a strain on the elderly woman. And she doesn’t want that._

_Elsa removes her ventilation mask as she sits up. “Gerda?”_

_“Careful, Miss Elsa. Here…” the woman says, circling an arm around the girl to help her up._

_“I’m okay,” Elsa smiles. She takes her caretaker’s hand into her own. Elsa doesn’t look up. It’s hard to believe that just nine years ago, her tiny hands would fit so snugly into this woman’s palms. She would always feel so protected when Gerda is with her._

_But this is not nine years ago._

_She’s no longer eight._

_“I…” she bites her bottom lip, gathering her words. “I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry for bringing you so much trouble.”_

_The elderly lady looks as though her soul has left her body. She shakes her head, “Why would you say such a thing, my dear?”_

_Elsa’s throat is sour. She bites harder onto her lip. Elsa prays that her bangs are long enough to hide her teary eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”_

_“Goodness,” Gerda breathes out in exasperation. She sits on the bed, scooting close so that she can hug the girl. “Come here, child.”_

_Elsa swallows the lump down her throat._

_Don’t cry._

_Don’t you_ dare _cry._

_Because all she will ever do is burden people._

_“… I’ve overheard that grandfather has to take medication.” She suddenly starts. “Is it for his heart?”_

_Gerda stiffens. Elsa can feel it. “Where did you manage to hear that?” the woman asks. “Master Runeard is always so secretive about his condition.”_

_Elsa doesn’t want to tell her about that time, four years ago, when she wanted to surprise her grandfather. She shouldn’t have imposed. Shouldn’t have heard. Shouldn’t have tried._

_Instead, she keeps smiling, unwavering._

_“Please tell me, Gerda,” she says, gripping onto the woman’s hand firmly. “He’s the only family I have left. He doesn’t have to know what you’re telling me.”_

_Her caretaker sighs, this time a bit more sadly. She takes a deep breath._

_And Elsa listens._

* * *

_“Are you certain about this?”_

_She looks down at her feet. She can’t look into his eyes. Not now. Not when he’s so clearly disappointed._

_“I’m sorry, Mr. Matthias,” Elsa apologizes. She doesn’t know how to make herself sound more sincere, more genuine than she truly is. This man has put so much faith in her; he has helped pave her path—nearly helped her rediscover her passion. Yet, what she’s doing now is nothing short of a betrayal._

_He heaves a sigh. It hurts that he isn’t angry. He should be angry. But what is he doing?_

_Mr. Matthias rests a comforting palm on her shoulder, patting it lightly. “If it is truly what you want, Elsa,” and then he offers her a kind smile. “You’ll have my full support.”_

_“Thank you,” her words come out weak, without much commitment._

_Another sigh. It seems like this is all she ever hears from the adults nowadays. Like they’re all disappointed in her._

_“I’m… assuming Mrs. LeClair helped you with the references?”_

_“Yes, that is correct,” Elsa says. “She helped me a great deal; she even asked several colleges to extend my application deadline.”_

_“Ah,” Mr. Matthias says. “Engineering, you say?”_

_Elsa nods._

_A proud smile spreads across his features. “Don’t you worry. With your marks, I’m sure you’ll be accepted anywhere, Elsa.”_

_She doesn’t know what to say but to force a smile of her own._

* * *

_“North Mountain University?” Runeard nearly knocks over the food on the table. “Why, that’s incredible! Well done, Elsa!”_

_She has never seen her grandfather look so joyful. His eyes literally shine. And, she must admit, it is contagious. She would like him to smile like this more often._

_“Yes, grandfather,” she answers. “I’ve received the acceptance email this morning. I believe they will be sending me the rest of the documents by April.”_

_“Lovely! Lovely work, Elsa! And in the faculty of engineering on top of that!” he clasps his hands together, nodding his head with enthusiasm. “Why, NMU is my alma mater! Well—that is, before I went on to pursue my architect license,” Runeard stands. “This calls for a celebration, yes?”_

_Elsa chuckles. “What do you have in mind, grandfather?” her eyes follow him as he heads into the wine cellar, enclosed behind a fancy glass door right next to the hallway that leads to the kitchen._

_He grins, enters the cellar for a moment, and emerges with a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses in his hands. “I think,” he says, “we should have a toast to this.”_

_She’s left speechless. “Grandfather, I—I’m still seventeen!”_

_“Oh, it’s fine, my child,” he laughs, placing the glasses down. Elsa watches as he uses some kind of contraption-device-corkscrew-thing to open up the bottle. “Let it breathe for a few minutes.”_

_Curious, Elsa tilts her head. She leans in to look inside the bottle. “Grandfather, I don’t know how to drink…”_

_“This is where I will enlighten you,” he smirks._

_Her long lashes bat together when she blinks. Who would’ve known? Her grandfather, so intimidating and well-respected in his line of work, can actually be so talkative when he’s in the mood? Elsa wishes she’s discovered this side of him sooner. She wishes she can spend more time with her grandfather._

_But she knows very well why she can’t._

_She squirms in her seat. “Has… work been busy lately, grandfather?”_

_Runeard returns to his seat across the table. “I have two weeks for a breather until I have to prepare for our company’s next showroom. A lot of organizing. Can’t be lazy. But, until then,” his smile returns. “I would like to celebrate with my granddaughter for her incredible achievement.”_

_Elsa blushes. She pushes a lock of hair behind an ear._

_“Have you decided on a dorm room? Ah, I heard they’ve renovated the university. I believe there is an entirely new complex just for engineering students,” he spurs on. “And I must get you a present! My, what would you like, Elsa? Tell me!”_

_“I…”_

_Just want to spend more time with you, grandfather._

_Just want you to use your time to rest._

_Just want to see you happy._

_Just want to help you._

_“… I don’t know.”_

_But Runeard snaps his fingers, cutting off Elsa’s quiet answer. “How about a car?”_

_She snaps her head up. “N-no, that—that’s too much! Grandfather—”_

_“Nonsense. Let us go to the dealership tomorrow.”_

_“I—”_

_He stands from his seat, once again almost knocking over the food on the table when he accidentally bumps his hips against it. “I shall make us an appointment,” he takes his phone out from his breast pocket on his blazer._

_Elsa doesn’t interrupt anymore. She sees no point. She’s just glad that he is still smiling._

_She’s glad that, on this rare occasion that her grandfather is dining at home, she is able to inform him of the news. Elsa is glad that at last, she can relive the feeling of the warmth of a family._

_And she never wants to let go of this feeling, ever._

* * *

_Elsa is a firm believer that hard work pays off._

_She saw it in her parents, she sees it in her grandfather, and wants to say that she sees it in herself, but so far, it seems as though she hasn’t tried hard enough, yet._

_Near the end of the summer semester, the engineering students—who naturally have far more courses than any other students in any other faculties—remain at the university. Since Elsa is very much finished with her finals, she’s simply sitting in the study lounge, offering to tutor anyone who needs a hand._

_Eugene frowns dramatically as he spams the refresh button on his browser. “Ugh. The slides aren’t loading. Please, not now. Don’t die on me now, laptop…!”_

_The corners of her lip arch upwards. “You will be fine, Eugene. Calm down.”_

_“Yeah, okay, Miss 4.33 GPA,” he argues. “God. What it’d feel like to be you for a day.”_

_“You’d probably get a chance with the guys,” Gogo says in the background. “Actually. You’ll get a chance for sure. No question.”_

_“Mhmm!” Honey Lemon chimes in. “I’m sure you would want that, wouldn’t you, Eugene!”_

_He just rolls his eyes, not even bothering to say anything. It’s become quite a routine for everyone to gang up on him. Honestly, sometimes Elsa does feel bad, but it is quite amusing. He certainly doesn’t mind all the teasing, after all._

_“He’s right, though,” Tadashi spins the pen in his hand. He pulls his seat closer towards the table, his chair making that squeaky sound on the hardwood floor. “Aren’t you already offered, what, three internship offers?”_

_“Five,” Wasabi at the other end of the table joins in. “Elsa’s gotten five since June.”_

_Tadashi raises his hands in surrender. “You see? Can’t blame Eugene.”_

_Elsa lowers her head, a bit embarrassed she’s suddenly getting so much attention. “I’m not exactly interested in any of them, though.”_

_“What do you mean?” Eugene exclaims, sitting straight up. “Isn’t one of them Krei Tech Industries? Like, THE Krei Tech?”_

_“Got a personal email from the man Alistair Krei himself. Elsa really is amazing, isn’t she!” Honey Lemon claps her hands._

_“Come ON!” Eugene goes on, scratching his head in clear frustration. “Please, Elsa! Just take on the offer! Please, work there for one day—grab a Krei Tech t-shirt or whatever. PLEASE do it for me?”_

_“Um…”_

_“Why would she do anything for you?” Gogo asks in her usual, monotonous voice._

_Oh, thank goodness. She said it out loud for her. Elsa doesn’t actually have to be rude._

_“Just—ugh! If the CEO of some major corporation asks you to work for him, you go WORK FOR HIM!”_

_“Elsa’s goal isn’t in the tech area, Eugene, you know that.” Gogo says. “It isn’t in nuclear engineering either. Or mechanical. Or… whatever the other offers are.” She scoots closer towards the blonde, pointing her pen at Eugene in warning. “Point is, she’s not interested. So shut up already.”_

_Elsa giggles. It’s nice to see them defending her over such a trivial matter. “It’s okay, Gogo,” she places a hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “I’m just waiting for the right offer.”_

_“Always aiming high, Elsa,” Honey Lemon says happily._

_“But does it have to be architecture?” Wasabi asks._

_She bites at her bottom lip._

_“But do you boys have to be so nosy?” Gogo retorts in the same tone._

_Elsa just smiles._

_It’s nice that the people around her are so encouraging. At least it gives her the illusion that the opportunity will come, however unforeseeable the future is._

_So, for now, Elsa will just wait._

_She will wait until she is good enough._

* * *

_By fall, the internship offers are closed. It’s too late to accept any of them. She will have to apply again next year. Maybe… maybe next time, she shouldn’t be so picky. Maybe she’s too used to aiming high. Maybe this is some cosmic power telling her that the world does not revolve around her—that she, like the rest of the population on planet earth, needs to try harder._

_Maybe she shouldn’t think of achieving her goal through shortcuts._

_Yes, that’s it._

_She will get her civil engineering degree and then apply to architect institutes. Apply for a master’s in architecture. Do it the normal way._

_With her current grades, Elsa is confident that she can get a scholarship for grad school. She just needs to put together a portfolio._

_Okay. It’s okay._

_Two more years until graduation—one if she works harder. Squeeze a few more courses into her schedule for the next semester. Plenty of time._

_Ah, but she also needs to think: what if she doesn’t get a scholarship?_

_It’s best she started looking for a job._

* * *

_Believe her when she says, though, that she’s tried everything._

_Barista at the school coffee shop, cashier at a supermarket, waitress at some restaurant nearby, and even a sales associate at Victoria’s Secret—the last of which isn’t even of her choice; she was just job hunting and a hiring manager just so happened to be right outside the store and dragged her in._

_Elsa managed to work for a total of three days before the same hiring manager asked if she wanted to ‘go up higher’ and become a model for the company or something. Obviously uncomfortable with the idea (and the fact that the guy kept staring at her whenever he was around—which, he shouldn’t be, considering his job description. He was just the hiring manager for sales associates!), Elsa kindly rejected his offer._

_She submitted her resignation letter the next day._

_Needless to say, the jobs didn’t work out for her._

_The Victoria’s Secret episode aside, the other jobs were just not flexible enough. With the number of courses that Elsa is taking, there is no way she can take five to eight-hour shifts while managing her assignments. Well, maybe she can if she sacrificed a bit of sleep, but sometimes, her schedules are really weird. This semester in particular—she has lectures in the morning, two hour breaks in between, followed by workshops that come up by random. Point is, she needs to find a job where she can make her own schedule. She needs something flexible. Something that she herself can determine, even if it’s last minute._

_“Why not try tutoring?” Gogo says one day when they are having lunch together._

_Elsa blinks. “But… what can I teach?”_

_The other girl glowers at her._

_And that is when Elsa remembers that she… um. She can pretty much teach anything._

* * *

_The problem arises, though, as she has absolutely no idea how this stuff works._

_Where can she find students? She can’t just run into the library with a large sign that says ‘Looking For Students! Can Teach Anything! Call This Number/Email This Address…’ because that’s ridiculous. Camping outside schools of younger grades may have parents call the cops on her. She doesn’t want to look like some creeper. Gosh, no._

_What she does know is there are bulletin boards all over the university. Oh! There are ones in community centres as well! Maybe she can post her contact information there?_

_Okay, yes. She will do that._

_Elsa’s not exactly good at compiling together something that can show-off her traits in a simplistic way. Thing is, there are way too many things that she can do. And, like, wouldn’t ‘Can Teach Any Subject’ look too suspicious? Honestly, she doesn’t know. She really just has to try, doesn’t she?_

_And so, she spends one weekend in mid-November putting up little posters on these boards. From the engineering building all the way to even the sociology building, Elsa has put a great deal of effort to have these be seen. She drives down the mountain, constantly google mapping for the next nearest community centre each time she finishes with one._

_Eventually, she finds herself in the district of Arendelle High. It is quite nostalgic to be in this area; she would most definitely spend a bit of time walking about, taking note of what’s changed over the past two-and-a-half years, but she is getting a bit anxious over this matter._

_The familiar chill of winter brews near; it prompts Elsa to make her way indoors as soon as possible. She isn’t exactly scared of the cold, but she would much rather be warm when she’s under so much stress. Elsa quickly does her deed, putting up yet another poster on a large bulletin board next to the indoor basketball court. Kids should see this when they walk by, right?_

_She nods to herself._

_Yes. They should._

_Elsa takes a deep breath. She takes out her phone, her icy fingers barely functioning as she opens up Google Maps again._

_“… hmm, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Olsen, I’m not sure what the problem is with this computer…”_

_A faint sound of a woman’s voice comes from a room that Elsa walks by. Curious, she looks inside. Elsa sees a beautiful woman with chocolate-brown hair helping out an elderly lady in a wheelchair by a computer desk. They both look like they’re in a bit of distress, perhaps even more than Elsa herself. She glances at the monitor. A black screen._

_On instinct, Elsa brings a hand up and knocks on the door._

_The two women turn to her._

_“Um, hello,” she says, peeking into the room. “I… is there something I can do to help?”_

_“Oh, if you would please,” the younger woman answers. “I’ve tried hard-resetting the computer, but it keeps coming back to this screen. All this technology stuff is getting me all frustrated.”_

_“Now, now,” the other woman chuckles. “Don’t lose your patience over this piece of junk, Iduna. It’s not worth your time!”_

_“I’m more so angry at myself that I can’t figure this out,” the woman by the name of Iduna says._

_Elsa smiles to their interaction. She places down her bag and the posters in her hands, leaning onto the desk to look behind the monitor to check if the cords are connected. She tries typing in a few functions onto the keyboard. No response. She does the usual control-alt-delete. Nothing._

_“Excuse me,” she says with a soft voice, moving to get down on her knees so that she can reach for the computer under the desk._

_“No worries,” Iduna helps the older woman back up so that Elsa would have more space._

_She reaches for the cords, trying to see if anything is awry. She thinks it’s nothing until she touches the metal, at which she instantly hisses from the heat. It’s feels like touching a pan on a heated stove._

_“Are you okay down there?”_

_“Yeah, I’m…” Elsa bares her teeth. “Everything’s fine.” She observes the walls and sees that the vents of the heater are right next to the computer’s fan._

_Okay, now it makes sense._

_She crawls out of the desk, brushing her hands clean of the dust. “It’s an overheating problem. I think it is because this computer is placed too close to the heater. If we move it where it can have proper ventilation, I am sure it will boot up normally.” She looks around the room, in search for a proper location for the PC. “May I help you with this?”_

_“That would be lovely. Thank you very much.” Iduna says gratefully._

_“What a wonderful child!” The elderly woman cheers. She is very cute; Elsa can’t help but to grin._

_The rest of the afternoon (going well into the evening) involves Elsa moving the PC onto the desk. She helps reconnect the cords, and because she’s a bit OCD, she goes up to the front desk to ask for those small wires. It’s important that she keeps those cords organized, even though it’s unlikely she’ll ever see this computer ever again._

_It’s nice, though. Because she makes a friend in Iduna and Mrs. Olsen, the latter of whom is a grandmother, taking computer lessons while she waits for her grandson to finish his basketball lessons in the community centre. Iduna Eriksen, even more admirably, is actually a commercial law barrister. Now, she’s here on volunteer, teaching older people the basic things to do on computer, such as checking emails, using social media, and whatnot._

_“Thank you so much for today, Elsa,” Mrs. Olsen says when her grandson, just tall enough to push the wheelchair, approaches shyly. She takes the blonde’s hand, gripping it in a manner that reminds Elsa of the way Gerda holds her hand when she was younger. “You are such a sweet girl.”_

_They say their goodbye’s to the elderly lady, and Elsa realizes that perhaps it is too late to continue on with her task. Oh well. She can always try next week._

_“I must thank you once again, Elsa,” Iduna speaks up, catching her attention. “You were a great help. We probably would’ve blown up alongside the computer if it weren’t for you.”_

_Elsa breaks into a soft giggle. “I didn’t do much,” she covers her lips with a hand. “But I’m glad I could help.”_

_“You’ve spent an entire afternoon on two old ladies when you could be using your time to go on dates! At least sound a little angrier!” the woman jokes._

_But Elsa doesn’t falter. She just keeps smiling. “N-no dates.”_

_“Alright,” Iduna laughs. “I’ll stop teasing. What were you doing here, by the way? You know, before you got caught up with this?” she gestures at the computer._

_“Oh, I was—” Elsa’s eyes, by reflex, move to the posters that she’s laid down next to her bag. “I was hoping I could put up posters to find students.”_

_“Ah, so you tutor?”_

_“Well, I’ve never tried it, but…” she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, biting onto her lower lip, “… I hope this will work out.”_

_A pause. And then, “Elsa, what subjects do you teach?”_

_She raises her head. “Um. I… I’m open to all subjects.”_

_Iduna smiles. “Tell you what,” she rests a hand on her shoulder. “I have a daughter—Anna. A real handful,” she rolls her eyes. “She can be well-behaved at times, gets good grades, but her calculus is falling behind for some reason. Something about a malfunctioning calculator during a test.”_

_Elsa blinks._

_“It’s her senior year, you see. Every letter grade counts at this point, so it genuinely is scaring me and my husband to see her suddenly plummet like this.”_

_She nods along, fully assessing the situation._

_“So, what I’m saying is…” Iduna clears her throat. “Would you consider teaching my daughter?”_

_Elsa gasps. She’s quite sure she’s forgotten how to breathe for a few seconds. But in that span of a few seconds, she is overwhelmed with a sense of joy—a warmth. One that differs from entering a heated room. Instead, it penetrates right into her heart, fills her chest with something that feels akin to a hug._

_She may be exaggerating, but._

_“I-if you’re willing to have me,” Elsa manages through her toothy grin, “I would love to.”_

* * *

_Come Tuesday, Elsa prepares all that she can before heading down the mountain. She’s even spent a great deal of time brushing up on high school calculus to ensure that she knows her materials. Math tends to change, but to her knowledge, nothing significant has been altered from the time she was in high school to now. In conclusion, she should be able to handle it._

_The drive down to Mrs. Eriksen’s house is only a mere twenty minutes without traffic. Elsa connects her phone to bluetooth and lets Spotify do its thing._

_Recommended of Today._

_Then, the strangest thing happens. A song—one that seeps deep into her mind—starts playing._

_One of Elvis’. It always makes her smile. She remembers singing this out loud and having her grandfather hear her. While he did praise her voice, it’s still embarrassing. But right now, Elsa doesn’t have an audience. She’s in her car, all by herself. Nobody can hear her. She’ll sing along._

_It’s strange that a song about can’t help falling in love with someone resonates so much with her. And she hasn’t even experienced anything like that, yet._

_Elsa blushes._

_Well, that was silly. To think of love at a time like this. She has work to do. This is her first venue!_

_She pulls up to the driveway and puts her car on park, turning off the engine. She’s arrived five minutes early, but it’s better to leave a good impression. Elsa exits her car, presses the handle of the door and the signature_ beep, beep _rings. She fixes her hair, straightens her clothes, and stands tall._

_Her mind yells at her to focus. Think about falling in love or whatever later!_

_Elsa takes a deep breath and reaches for the doorbell. The sound chimes tenderly in her ears, and then she sees a figure behind the frosted glass of the door._

_It opens._

_And Elsa has never felt happier making the choices that have led her up to this point._


	21. Chapter 21

“Elsa,” she calls her name, soft and musical, like the windchimes in the breeze.

The blonde responds with a smile. She stirs in Anna’s arms, removing herself from the younger girl’s neck and looks up. Deep, crystal blue eyes, so full of longing, so full of life—of _love—_ looking right back at her. “Hm?”

Anna smiles back, perplexed by the sheer amount of happiness in Elsa’s eyes despite everything.

_Everything._

Her fingers come to caress Elsa’s cheek, feeling her warmth, her softness, feeling _her._ Anna inhales. Elsa’s signature lavender scent, the faint smell of a minty coolness each time she breathes. It draws Anna in, captures her attention, urges her to look, to observe. And so her eyes start to wander, tracing along Elsa’s cheekbones, the corners of those cerulean eyes she adores so much, and the natural curl of those dark, luscious eyelashes. Anna looks on, outlining the shape of Elsa’s eye—once in a while shifting her gaze lower to purposely get lost in pools of sky-blue—and finds herself falling in love, again and again, with how subtle it arches up at the corners. How, despite Elsa’s icy and apparently aloof demeanour, she can still be so vulnerable.

How, despite her piercing gaze, when Elsa looks at her like this, Anna feels as though her heart would melt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Anna laughs.

Elsa giggles in response. It is a rich, beautiful sound. Constantly filling Anna with an indescribable warmth, a sort of belonging—if she could—and it never fails to make her feel appreciated. It’s like telling a bad joke in front of an audience; even if no one laughs, Anna can bet with her life that Elsa will be there to give her a standing ovation. Something like that.

“Looking at you like what?” Elsa asks.

Anna runs her thumb over Elsa’s lower lip. Just lightly. “Like…” she thinks, pausing to admire how easily they part, “… I said the dumbest thing in the world and you’re trying to hold in a laugh.”

“Well,” Elsa says. She kisses Anna’s fingers while giving her that adorable toothy grin, “… you did say something silly.”

Anna knows she’s being witty. She knows it, and so she fakes a gasp. “Silly?!”

“Mhmm,” Elsa hums, completely seeing through the redhead’s exaggerated reaction.

“I thought I was being mature…” this time, she feigns a look of sadness.

Elsa doesn’t fall for it. But it doesn’t stop her from coming in for a quick, reassuring kiss. “You were,” she whispers against Anna’s lips. “And I… I’m really proud of you.”

Anna giggles into the kiss. “You hypocrite. Then you’re the silly one for judging me!”

“Maybe,” Elsa remarks playfully.

“Hey, watch your tone, young lady!”

“Mmn.” Another kiss.

“Elsa—”

“Shh.” Elsa interrupts her with yet another kiss.

Which. To be honest. Anna isn’t going to complain, but. _Like._ Elsa’s on top of her and is, well, being _so_ intimate and daring and just— _just…_

“ _Elsa…”_ Anna lets a moan escape when the blonde’s lips touch the tendon of her neck. Elsa’s hands are trying to hike up her shirt, teasingly slipping in to touch her skin. And, _god,_ the feel of her lips along with the coolness of her fingers is too much. Anna is unhinged, completely at her mercy, losing the control in her own limbs and she bares her teeth to resist the urge to _let go_ for a second—

“Now you know,” Elsa’s voice vibrates into Anna’s skin as she speaks, as she moves lower towards the latter’s clothed chest, “how you make me feel,” those same fingers come to fiddle with the clip of Anna’s bra from underneath her shirt (she swears she’s done something like this to Elsa in the past), “… when you do this.”

She tosses her head up, arching her back from the sofa, and, in turn, encouraging Elsa to continue, to _don’t stop,_ but Anna makes sure to clench her teeth. Because she is not letting out another embarrassing sound…!

“Anna…”

“Y-yeah?” she realizes that it’s not just her teeth that’s clenched; her eyes are as well. She looks down and finds Elsa staring lovingly, blue orbs sparkling with anticipation, but she doesn’t go on. It’s like she’s waiting for permission.

God.

That’s the thing with Elsa. Always so unsure of herself. Always lacking the confidence. But that’s in the past. Anna knows now that Elsa has changed, and it happened because of her. She knows that she is Elsa’s driving force, that she comprises together Elsa’s resolve—that she is the reason Elsa is even willing to come this far.

And all is confirmed when Elsa kisses her neck, sucking gently, _gently._ Then, Elsa whispers, her sweet, beautiful voice reverberating into her skin, “… I’m so happy you’re you.”

Her breath trembles. In an attempt to hide how touched, how utterly emotional over hearing this, Anna speaks up, “And I…” but she doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to top Elsa’s words, charged with so much feeling and love and… _ahh, what can she say_ — “… I’m so happy my calculator died during that test.”

Elsa draws back. There is a brief pause. Everything is quiet, subdued. Anna takes this time to think back and realize how dumb her words were, but then she sees—Elsa, blinking, eyelids batting adorably, laughing.

It’s contagious. She already knows. Warmth washes upon her chest from the inside like a rising tide; Anna tries to act angry, but she can’t help but to laugh along. “Stop ruining the mood when I’m trying to be serious!” 

But Elsa, that mischievous girl. She continues to laugh, the lovely sound bouncing off the walls of the living room. At this point, she has to sit up to hold onto her stomach.

Anna stays lying down, content to just look at this girl whom she’s fallen in love with. She watches—the sputtering bursts of giggles that makes her body shake; how those reddened cheeks make her appear so alive; how—at broken intervals—Elsa would snort, prompting herself to laugh even harder. How, this girl—so selfless and incredible—is in love with _her._

Which is why Anna is determined.

She’ll work for it.

Don’t waste it.

Don’t waste _any_ of Elsa’s love.

Because she knows that Elsa isn’t wasting any of hers. And she is so, so, _so_ lucky—so privileged—to be able to have her love reciprocated.

“Hey,” she calls softly.

It doesn’t happen immediately, but Elsa’s laughter quiets down. She wipes away the tears in her eyes. The tears that, to Anna’s knowledge, will not stop flowing—all because of such overwhelming joy. And so, Anna spreads her arms. She welcomes the girl into her embrace, asking her to come in.

No hesitation.

She falls into Anna’s arms, surrendering herself to that warm hug. Elsa finds her usual, comfortable spot in the crook of Anna’s neck; she herself wraps her arms around the redhead’s waist, and they are attached by the hip, completely inseparable. Anna searches for Elsa’s hand and brings it up to her lips. She lets her kiss linger, and then she speaks up, “I think that no matter what happens,”

Elsa snuggles higher. No longer hiding in Anna’s neck, Elsa’s head is parallel with hers.

“… I-I mean, maybe I’m thinking ahead of myself. Maybe what I’m saying is naïve and dumb, but—”

“Anna.”

She bites her lip, shutting herself up.

As she does that, once more, Anna finds them looking deep into each other’s orbs. And it always baffles her how Elsa is able to pour every ounce of truth and confidence into her gaze. Her crystal blue eyes, so expressive and genuine—it makes her words all the more encouraging. “Whatever you choose to do,” Elsa says, “I’ll always be here. Just as I know how you will always be there for me.”

Anna relaxes, letting out a puff of air that she does not know she’s been holding in. She closes their distance, eager to feel Elsa’s lips once again. “… Then, Elsa?”

“Hmm?”

She intertwines their fingers together. Elsa, in response, does the same.

“Can we make the most of what we have?”

Elsa nods, smiling.

Anna grins, and they kiss.

* * *

_“Anna?”_

_She stiffens, sitting straight up. “Hm?”_

_Elsa’s grip on her hand tightens. “We’re here.”_

_Anna looks out the window. Oh. Her home. They’ve arrived. “Right.”_

_They slip out of their ride, Anna once again neglecting to give the driver a rating. Wordlessly, she makes her way to the door, unlocking it with ease and enters the house._

_“I’m… um. I’m gonna go take a shower.”_

_She’s already halfway up the stairs when Elsa calls for her— “Wait, Anna…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_Anna can picture it. Elsa is down there, looking up at her, but Anna refuses to turn around. Not now. Give her a minute, please. Just give her a bit to wash all this negativity away and then she’ll come back down, all smiles again._

_“Is everything okay?” Elsa asks her the inevitable question._

_“Yep! Just still smell like Korean barbecue. Feels kinda gross.” It’s too forced. Is it obvious? “We can talk after I’m done, okay?” She doesn’t stay for an answer._

_Anna just sprints to her room, closes the door, strips herself of her clothes, runs into her bathroom, shuts that door, and turns the shower on. She’ll pick everything up later. For now, she prays that doing this can clear her mind. It has to. She can’t let Elsa see. Anna stands, trembling under the freezing water; she ignores how, despite its temperature, it is practically burning her skin—drilling into her bones. She’s pretty sure that she’s going to get sick at this rate, but does she care? Does any part of her care at this point? Her limbs—just look at them. They’re so heavy. She doesn’t even have the will to reach for the tap. Useless. Can’t even reach out to twist it a little to adjust for some warmth. Just a bit. But no, she can’t. All she can do is hide. Rest her forehead against the tiles of the wall, close her eyes. Let the sound of the running water drown out the world for a bit._

_Just a little more._

_Can’t let Elsa see. Can’t let her know. Can’t—_

_“Anna…”_

_Oh no…_

_She wants to jump, wants to resist, wants to run._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_But more than anything, when those arms come from behind to wrap around her tiny frame, when Elsa reaches to turn the temperature up, when she feels Elsa’s naked body pressing into hers, Anna is suddenly filled with an unspoken warmth. Oh god, she wants to cry._

_“… Is it something I’ve done?”_

_What? No—_

_“If so, I’ll apologize. I-I—"_

_No, Elsa. Why do you keep thinking it’s your fault? You’ve done nothing wrong. You have never done anything wrong._

_Anna clenches her jaw, and in one, swift motion, she spins around, pushing Elsa against the wall to their side. Her strength surprises Elsa, no doubt; it most certainly hurt the blonde a little when she shoved her like that. Anna wants to apologize—she would never hurt Elsa, but she’s afraid that if she pulls away now and lets the girl see, she would hurt her even more._

_Because Elsa will ask, and Anna can’t lie to her. Can’t tell her what her grandfather said. Can’t tell her how true his words are._

_What the hell can Anna do for Elsa?_

_God._

_She doesn’t know._

_Stop asking. Stop questioning. Just stop—_

_“A-Anna!”_

_Elsa’s leg is lifted up. Anna hooks her arm around that knee, and she wastes no time. She presses her weight into the taller girl to hold her up, keep her steady. Her other hand reaches down, fingertips tracing along Elsa’s centre—up and down, up and down. Anna latches her lips onto Elsa’s neck, sucking at the tendon there, and as a familiar wetness builds between Elsa’s legs, as the girl’s moans escalate, Anna uses teeth. She bites. Gentle, delicate bites._

_She does this on the occasion to mark Elsa. To claim this girl as her own. She’ll never say this out loud, but Anna is a bit possessive. In truth, seeing Elsa naked, helpless, bitemarks all over her immaculate body, lying in her bed, she gets a real kick out of it._

_See? She’s so childish._

_But then Elsa starts bucking her hips. She urges Anna to go on, take her further, don’t stop. Everything that Elsa does to her—_ for _her—it’s done with genuine encouragement. The smallest gestures, the tiniest mannerisms. The most minuscule detail is fine-tuned just for Anna. So when those slender arms, wrapped delicately around her neck retract, Anna knows that Elsa is doing it so that she can frame her face. Elsa wants to look at her, as much as she wants to look at Elsa. She does this whenever they’re intimate. It’s something that assuages the both of them, but now—_

_She acts quickly. Anna crushes her lips into Elsa’s._

_—now, Anna’s a mess. She’s too ashamed to let Elsa see._

_Her digits move at a steady pace; the pads of her fingers rub along Elsa’s frontal wall, and her thumb circles around that bundle of nerves. Elsa, enraptured in all these sensations, focuses all that she can on the kiss. Her soft groans are accompanied with each of Anna’s thrust, muffled by Anna’s lips; the water dripping from their bodies splash into the shallow pool beneath, and the steam that surrounds them doesn’t make the situation any less heated._

_Does Elsa feel good? Is she making Elsa feel good? God, she hopes she is. Because… b-because… what else can Anna even give her? Surely, at least a bit of pleasure, right?_

_Elsa’s orgasm is quick. A soundless gasp, her muscles tense, and she hugs Anna tight. It lasts for no less than a few moments, but how Anna wishes it can last longer. In doing so, she can avoid confrontation. Avoid the questioning. Avoid—_

_“Anna.” Elsa says her name in the softest, most whispery voice, “… Anna.”_

_It’s too late. Anna doesn’t trust herself to respond. Because if she does, her voice might tremble. The dam will break, and Elsa will know. Everything that Runeard’s told her—Anna will have to spill it. God, but how? Elsa clearly respects her grandfather. It’s likely she even idolizes him. Anna can’t badmouth her family. What should she do?_

_She’s so distracted, she doesn’t notice Elsa’s hands on her cheeks. She doesn’t notice that they’re looking at each other._

_Oh, no._

_Elsa, this perfect, perfect girl. She greets Anna with a smile. Her white-gold hair, damp; the braid on her shoulder, barely intact. And then there’s that fresh bitemark Anna’s left on her. Those round, bright cerulean eyes. So pretty, so kind, so much love. She shuts her eyes._

_Anna realizes this now—she’s scared. Scared of losing it all._

_“E-Elsa…” she speaks, unsure if she can go on._

_But when Elsa’s brilliant smile prolongs, when she brushes the wet strands of hair away from Anna’s face, keeping them behind her ear, Anna inhales sharply._

_“Why me?” she asks, her voice masked by the running water from the showerhead. “Why do you love me?”_

_… there. There, she did it. Anna shuts her eyes again, as if it would hide her from all her greatest fears. What a stupid thing to do. What a stupid thing to ask. Elsa probably thinks she’s an idiot, but can she blame her?_

_“Anna,”_

_Because, like Runeard said, what can she give Elsa?_

_“Anna, look at me.”_

_She’s just a child. Which is probably why the definition of ‘future’ is finally hitting her so._

_“Please.”_

_Slowly, as if afraid that the light would blind her, Anna opens her eyes._

_And Elsa, being right here in her embrace, so vulnerable and beautiful—ephemeral—she comes in to peck her lightly on the lips. A gentle, fleeting touch. Softer than anything Anna’s ever felt. Once Elsa seizes the moment, once Anna’s focus is on her, she begins._

_“I need you to know,” Elsa says timidly, like she’s embarrassed. Her pearly white teeth tug at her lower lip, a blush forms, and she continues, “I’ve done something stupid in the past. I’ve thrown away music—something I loved dearly, hoping to get something else in exchange.”_

_… what?_

_“I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get it at all,” Elsa explains. “I was gambling.”_

_Gambling? Wha… Elsa’s thrown away music for…_

_Anna gasps._

_Architecture._

_Elsa’s grandfather is an architect._

_“… But then when you opened the door that day, I felt that… for the first time, everything’s going to be okay. It will turn out okay, eventually.”_

_Anna’s heart swells. “Elsa—”_

_“You might think it’s silly,” Elsa says softly. She leans in, their lips touching once more. “But for me, it really was love at first sight.”_

* * *

“Anna, Elsa!”

Her mother is the first to enter the house. At once, she rushes up to the woman, throwing her arms around her. “Mom!” Anna buries herself in her mother’s clothes, breathing in deeply that smell she misses so much.

“Oh, Anna,” Iduna chuckles. She returns the hug before raising her head to see Elsa, standing at the foyer. Anna’s sure that her mother would run over to hug Elsa as well if she weren’t trapped in her own hug. “Hello, Elsa,” her mother says instead. “How have you been?”

“I have been well, thank you,” the girl says politely. “How was your trip? May I help you with the luggage?”

“The trip was lovely—oh! Let go for a second, Anna. Careful, Elsa, it’s heavy!”

“It’s fine,” Anna laughs, holding her mother down so that Elsa can carry the luggage up the step. “You should know by now that it’s impossible to convince Elsa to stop once she puts her mind to it.”

Elsa glares. It’s non-threatening and really is just another one of those cute pouts of hers, though. “Are you saying that I’m stubborn?”

Anna holds back a smirk.

The door swings open again, and Anna’s father comes in, dragging his luggage along. “Ugh. Home, at last.”

“Dad!” she finally lets go of her mother, running past her to throw her arms around her father.

“Oof!” Agnarr laughs. “Ah, if it isn’t my favourite daughter.”

“Fav—dad, I’m your _only_ daughter.” Anna deadpans.

His laughter softens to a chuckle as he ruffles her hair, a bit of a habit that Anna isn’t quite fond of, but she admits that it’s nice to feel it again after a month. “Well,” his green eyes dart to meet the blonde, still standing there, posture so naturally graceful, all on her own. “Maybe not in a few years.”

Anna doesn’t need to look to know that Elsa’s probably beet red by now. To be fair, she herself feels her cheeks get hot. “Okay, s-stop,” she stutters. “You can bully me, but you’re not allowed to be mean to Elsa.”

“I’m not being mean. On the contrary, I have never been more serious,” he argues.

She rolls her eyes. Anna’s learned that arguing with barristers usually doesn’t work out, so she’s not even going to try. Even if it’s just a joke.

“Mm,” her mother speaks up as she removes her shoes. She steps closer into the hallway, drawn by the amazing aroma coming from the kitchen. “What are you girls up to?”

The happiness returns to Anna’s eyes. “It was Elsa’s idea,” she explains.

Elsa grins, but her blush remains. “We figured that you are probably in need of a home-cooked meal after travelling for so long.”

“Aw, you are always so sweet to us, Elsa,” Anna’s mother takes a step closer to the blonde, reaches for her hand and squeezes.

Elsa smiles shyly.

“To have our future daughter-in-law cook for us,” Anna’s father says out of the blue. He clenches a fist, looking like he’s won the lottery or something, “I can die happy.”

“Alright, enough of that,” Anna’s mother frowns. Still holding onto Elsa’s hand, she can tell that the blonde is getting a bit too red. “I’m so sorry, Elsa. He can be quite ridiculous at times.”

Elsa shakes her head. “I-it’s okay. Anna’s like this too, so, um…” she giggles. “I’m kind of used to it.”

“Hey!” Anna glowers, placing her hands on her hips.

Her parents and Elsa break into a warm chuckle. And seeing this picture, Anna couldn’t be happier. She’s so glad that Elsa’s happy, that she’s getting the familial love that she’s been lacking, all these years. Anna is glad that her family, however weird and abrupt and, just, _strange_ at times can fill the unspoken void in Elsa. It’s so simple; look at her—the joy in those teary eyes, how they sparkle so blissfully. It’s enough to get Anna herself a little teary, to say the least.

“Would you like to get your things unpacked?” Elsa asks the adults. “Anna and I are almost done preparing for dinner.”

“We’ll call you down when we’re done?” Anna finishes. Then, a grin spreads across her cheeks, “I’ve got a surprise for the two of you.”

“A surprise?” Her mother is the first to react.

“Oh, god,” her father gasps. “You didn’t get Elsa pregnant, did you?”

Anna gawks. “Pr—what the hell! _Dad!_ ”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs, holding onto his stomach at this point. God. To think that this guy is actually renowned in the field of law is quite unbelievable on its own. “Okay, we’ll leave you two to it,” he takes his luggage with a hand and makes his way up the step. Passing by Elsa, he reaches out a hand to her, “In all seriousness, thank you for taking care of my daughter while we were gone, Elsa.”

And Elsa, still holding onto Iduna’s hand, takes Agnarr’s with her free one. “No, I…” she turns to find the redhead. Their gaze lock, and the smile they share widens. “… Anna was the one who took care of me.”

“Finally,” Anna exaggerates her eye-roll. She makes her way towards Elsa, freeing her from her parents’ cult-like hand-holding thing. Anna wraps her arms around Elsa’s tiny frame protectively, resting her chin on the taller girl’s shoulder. “Some truth.”

Elsa’s blush deepens. It’s the first time Anna’s done anything remotely close to PDA in front of her parents. To be fair, Elsa’s just starting to get used to hugs and small kisses in public, but that’s justifiable because whoever’s watching them out there isn’t someone they’d know. Here, Elsa’s a bit more self-conscious because, well, these are Anna’s parents. Potential family and all!

But Anna’s determined to get Elsa to open up. They’ve been together for long enough. It’s established that her mother and father have accepted Elsa into the family.

Literally.

As her father has (jokingly or not) said, Elsa’s already known as the ‘future daughter-in-law’, and Anna’s only seventeen!

“Uh, um…” Elsa crosses her arms together, trying to appear small.

Anna adjusts. She keeps her arms circled around Elsa’s waist, rotating behind with her chin still resting on the taller girl’s shoulder. Then, she just glares at her parents.

Her mother, thank goodness, seems to understand. “Okay, okay, we’ll leave you two alone. Come on, honey, get the stuff upstairs. Do you want to use the shower first, or…?”

“Oh, yes please.” He grunts. “Ten-hour flights and my body have the worst kind of relationship, ever.”

Anna chuckles. Her father can be such a princess sometimes. Other than his (yes, Anna will admit) good looks and maybe somewhat of his intelligence, she doesn’t know why her mother would choose him.

“You okay?” Anna asks, immediately after her parents are up the stairs.

Elsa’s reddened cheeks remain. She nods. “J-just that… this is…” Elsa gestures at Anna’s arms. “… kind of embarrassing.”

At that, the corner of her lips arch upwards. Anna plants her lips on Elsa’s clothed shoulder.

“A-Anna…” she says in a quiet whisper.

But Anna ignores her. She trails her lips up, following the smoothness of Elsa’s neck, all the way to her ear. “Come on,” she whispers, purposely fanning her hot breath against Elsa’s skin. “Let’s get the food ready?”

Elsa nods again but doesn’t hesitate to take Anna’s hand when they make their way to the kitchen.

* * *

_Her room is dark. The blinds are left opened as usual and, just as always, the dim streetlights pour gently through her windows, dyeing the atmosphere in a warm, yellowish hue._

_Anna doesn’t use this moment to appreciate the colours of her room, though. She has her eyes on Elsa, lying next to her in bed. And Elsa, whose eyes always seem to be speaking in volumes, always communicating with Anna in the most loving way, looks back at her. They’ve been like this for god knows how long. But they are content._

_With all that has happened in Elsa’s life, for how far she has come, Anna is content with the way that Elsa is right now._

_Safe. Happy. In her arms._

_“What are you thinking about?” Elsa’s voice comes out to be soothing, layered with a smile._

_A smile that Anna can’t see but knows for a fact that is there. So she smiles as well when she responds, “How do you know that I’m thinking about stuff?”_

_A breath of amusement. Elsa scoots closer, their legs under the duvet tangle together. “Because,”_

_“Because?”_

_Elsa cups her cheek, running small circles on it with her thumb. “You haven’t said a single word since… since I’ve told you everything.”_

_Anna chuckles. “Sorry,” she says softly. “It’s just… I still can’t believe it, y’know? Trying to process it all.”_

_Elsa smiles. “Believe what?”_

_She mentally shrugs. “I dunno.” Elsa’s going to scold her for this, but oh well. “Just… I mean, I’m so ordinary. Just a high schooler. Average height, average looks. Average. I still can’t believe that I’m, um. How do I put it? That I, uh, left such an impact on you? I just…” she stutters, fully aware that she’s just rambling at this point. “I guess what I want to say is that… I never knew.”_

_“Oh, Anna…” Elsa sighs. She snuggles close to press her lips on Anna’s forehead. Elsa’s fingers come to frame the redhead’s face, the warmth of her skin seeping in to remind Anna that this is real. That, yes, Elsa really, truly sees her in the way that she says. “I… I haven’t…”_

_Anna nuzzles into the crook of Elsa’s neck. Her arms, still locked around Elsa’s waist, slip higher. She runs the pads of her fingers along Elsa’s naked body. Feels the bumps of her spine, her shoulder blades, her softness. The closeness is nice. Safety and comfort aside, Anna thinks that simply being like this, simply being with Elsa in this way—having her presence by her side—is all that she needs. And Anna knows deep inside that Elsa feels the same._

_Which is exactly why she’s doing this. To encourage the girl to go on._

_Elsa swallows. The gulp practically echoes. Anna kisses at the junction where Elsa’s neck and shoulder meet. She occupies her hands by continuously rubbing them up and down along Elsa’s back._

_“I haven’t met many people in my life,” the blonde says in a whisper. “You know that I don’t go out much.”_

_Anna hums._

_“But meeting you has…” Elsa tries, pushing herself to let the words out, “… i-it changed me. I’m happier. The things I do when I’m around you. When I do things around you,” Elsa pauses to brush her fingers through Anna’s hair. “I… I like myself more when I’m with you.”_

_There’s a gravity in what Elsa says. Not the type that drags her down; rather, it’s a considerable amount of weight that balances her, that keeps her grounded. It reminds her that she is alive—not wandering aimlessly. Lost, weightless._

_Still, Anna wonders. “Have you ever thought that… maybe by staying with music, you would’ve been happier?” She asks._

_Elsa doesn’t answer her immediately. Perhaps it took a couple moments, but eventually, she draws back, and they’re looking at each other through the dark again._

_“Maybe,” she smiles. “But I probably wouldn’t be as happy as I am right now.”_

_A slow, widening of eyes. The steady beating in her heart thumps in her ear. For a bit, Anna swears that Elsa is shining._

_Yes, Elsa shines, more radiantly than anything in the universe, that much is established. And, yes, Anna is but an insignificant anomaly, but no—she understands now that she is not something that hides this girl’s light. Now, she knows that she is fully capable of shining alongside her. She is an anomaly that enhances Elsa’s light. She is her guide. Her path. Maybe, if she could, she is Elsa’s goal._

_And, just as well, Anna wants Elsa to be hers._

_“Elsa.”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Years from now, when you’ve become an architect and I become… well, whatever it is I want to be, do you think we’ll still have conversations like this?”_

_A soft chuckle vibrates from the blonde’s chest. “What’s this all of a sudden?”_

_“Just wondering.”_

_“Mm…” Elsa thinks aloud. Her eyes shut, and she looks so, so peaceful. An angelic, sleeping fairy. “To be honest, knowing us, no matter how busy we get, I think we’ll always make time for each other.”_

_Anna hums again._

_Then, Elsa goes on, “U-unless… um. I don’t know. If you get tired of me.”_

_Anna very well cracks her neck when Elsa said that. “What?!”_

_“It… it’s a long road down. I don’t know what will happen. You might find someone better. B-but It’s okay, though! I understand that I’m not exactly a fun person, and—"_

_Anna has pressed her palm against Elsa’s mouth, literally shutting her up. “Alright, I’m going to have to stop you there.”_

_Elsa’s thin brows crease together in worry as she blinks, confused._

_Anna tries her best to not roll her eyes. Elsa has low self-esteem, she knows this, and through what she’s heard so far, it’s kind of obvious why it’s come to this. Nobody has ever told Elsa that she’s done a good job. The occasional ‘congratulations’ from winning those piano competitions coming from teachers and advisors mean nothing. All this time, what Elsa wants—what she lacks—is approval._

_Which prompts Anna to say the next words._

_“Elsa.”_

_She blinks again._

_Anna takes a deep breath. “I will tell you just once, okay? If I hear you berating yourself again, I’m going to be really mad.”_

_Like a child being scolded, Elsa pouts. It’s involuntary, of course. Scared Elsa always pouts. Anna holds back a giggle._

_“You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. And yes, I know I haven’t met many people either, but I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that you are the literal representation of perfection.”_

_“Anna…”_

_“I’m not done yet,” she cuts her off sternly. “I fell in love with you because you’re cute, funny, intelligent, and most importantly, because you’re beautiful—both inside and out.”_

_Elsa lowers her gaze, as if avoiding direct eye contact. Being nervous again, isn’t she? Anna decides that she needs to soften her approach. Can’t be too direct, because it’s not something that Elsa is accustomed to._

_“Hey,” she tries again, this time softer. “You motivate me to work hard, y’know? I’ve never thought much about what I should do in the future, but I—” Anna holds onto Runeard’s words. Not as something that she fears, but as something that she can work towards. Something that she can grow into, “—I know now, what I want.”_

_Perhaps it is a mix of both curiosity and surprise, but Elsa looks up again. “Oh? What is it?”_

_Anna grins so widely her teeth show. Even her eyes turn to lines. “I guess…” she chokes out a laugh, “… it’s to match up to your nerdiness.”_

_Elsa drops her jaw, clearly offended. “I—Anna! I-I’m not nerdy!”_

_“Oh, you so are!” Her laughter echoes in the room. “Who in the world actually has a 4.33 GPA average? And, what, twelve scholarships? Oh, and get this—who in their right mind rejects an offer of becoming a Victoria’s Secret model?! Only a nerd would do that!”_

_“I… I don’t want to be on those half-naked posters! Those girls wear nothing but lingerie!”_

_“Elsa, that’s the point!”_

_“I-I can’t do something so embarrassing!” At this point, Elsa’s trying to shove her off the bed. It’s not that she minds (Anna thinks as she continues to laugh), but she’s freaking naked and it’s cold and this is_ her _bed! She’s not letting this happen—she is not losing to Elsa!_

_Anna starts putting up a fight. It’s known by now that although Elsa can be quite unpredictable at times, Anna is the stronger one. In one, smooth motion, Anna finds a momentum somehow and flips their positions. She straddles Elsa beneath her, between her legs, and keeps the blonde’s wrists pinned at each side of her head._

_Elsa lets out a helpless squeak._

_And. Very, very maliciously, Anna smirks._

_“T-this isn’t fair…” Elsa mumbles._

_Anna doesn’t waste any time. She comes in to reclaim that bitemark she’s left earlier. Only, this time, she runs her tongue along the red outline. Each indent, each dip, Anna traces it with a dedication—one that she would only present to her girlfriend. Her hips, meanwhile, start to move. Slowly, she grinds their centres together._

_“Anna…” the blonde mewls. “What a-are you—hnn…”_

_“Like I said,” Anna purrs, now running her tongue up to Elsa’s chin—higher, up until she reaches those cherry pink lips. But Anna doesn’t kiss her. Instead, she goes on, licking, teasing. The soft bottom lip, how this very softness—wetness—is reflected between their legs. God. So hot._

_“Said…?” Elsa moans, reminding the redhead that she was in the middle of saying something._

_But of course Anna remembers. She’s just too distracted. She’ll get back to it. Right about now._

_“Like I said,” she murmurs, “I’m just trying to match up to you.”_

_And as their centres grind together, as the slickness between them builds, Elsa no longer has it in her to form coherent words. But like the nerd that she is, she tries. “But I…” Elsa says, with every intention to be serious._

_How cute._

_Anna thrusts forward; their centres grind again._

_A high-pitched moan escapes Elsa’s lips. She arches her back, jaws hang slack, breath hitching with a keen desire. “Anna—aah!”_

_“Yeah?” Anna groans, unable to hold back a whimper of her own._

_“Please, I… I—”_

_Her voice. God, her_ fucking _voice. She loves it so much. She loves Elsa so much. The way she calls her name like that. Every time, Anna feels as though her sanity is being tested. Like her body is reduced to a melted pile of goo, and she would spill over._

_“B-but I… o-oh, god—” her head is thrown back again when Anna nibbles her earlobe, their hips now writhing in sync, steady. Yet, Elsa is determined. Finishing that sentence seems to be her lifeline. She grits her teeth, steeling herself. “But I want to be even better,” Elsa breathes, “… for you.”_

_There is no pause. No breaks._

_Anna’s heart pounds. It flutters, faster, harder—the rhythm seemingly mimicking the movement of her hips. Her throat burns with the need to cry out in pleasure, but she can’t. No. Not now. Don’t cry. In turn, the most she can do is to pull back and smile. Let Elsa know how grateful she is for hearing those words. Let her know how much she cares. Anna releases Elsa’s wrists to slip her hands underneath the other girl’s body, to hold her close. Like clockwork, Elsa’s legs come to wrap around Anna’s waist. And then they are bound together._

_Nothing can tear them apart._

_“Then let’s do it together.”_

_Their foreheads touch._

_“Let’s work hard together,” Anna shuts her eyes so she can focus. “For each other.”_

_Elsa smiles._

_They move._

_Anna feels Elsa digging her fingers into her back, blunt nails leaving faint marks in their wake. “Anna. Anna. I love you,” she cries, voice trembling but tender. “I love you so much.”_

* * *

Her parents come down together, and Anna isn’t surprised in the slightest that, after getting washed up, they are practically radiating. Going on vacations sure does wonders. Though, she certainly doesn’t want to question _what_ exactly they did on their travels. Not like she’s wondering. God, no. Well, like, she did tell them she doesn’t want another sibling, and if—

“Anna,” Elsa is holding onto her hand, sitting in the seat next to her. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

She feels her cheeks redden. Well, _Elsa,_ first of all. She can’t say it’s because she was thinking about the possibility of her parents having another child. Which, secondly, would mean they were having se— _ugh, ew, gross!_ God forbid. Please. _Please, no!_

“Mmm, this looks delicious!” her mother exclaims, clapping her hands together. Anna sees her eyes wandering from the beef wellington to the paella, both steaming alongside their alluring presentation. The sashimi salad placed in the centre, however, stands as a medium to balance out the colours.

“It looks like you have competition, my dear,” her father smirks playfully as he pulls the seat out for his wife before sitting down himself.

Anna clears her throat. She’s probably blushing and stuff, but whatever. “Elsa really went all out,” she sits and pulls the chair closer. “You should’ve seen her cook. I’ve never seen her so concentrated before. You’d think she’s practicing for a cooking contest or something.”

Elsa is somehow able to sit even straighter. Probably a way to mask her shyness. “Anna’s exaggerating. S-she helped me as well,” she explains quietly.

Yep. Definitely shy.

“If you mean taste-testing, then yeah, I helped plenty.”

Elsa shoots her a glare.

Anna just sticks out her tongue.

“Okay, well, my mouth won’t stop watering,” her father interrupts, “Can we please dig in?” he has already placed the napkin in his lap.

“Wait, wait, wait! The surprise!” Anna spurts. She digs her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie and takes out several pieces of paper. She looks to Elsa, as if asking for approval. When the blonde nods eagerly, Anna gathers the sheets together, straightening them on the table. “Don’t freak out, okay?” and then she hands them to her father.

He gives her a suspicious glare before taking them, but his eyes start to bulge. Her mother, curious about the ordeal, leans over to take a glance. Very organically, things just start to unfold. The two look up in unison, genuine, happy grins livening up their expressions.

“W-what…!” her father is the first to speak.

“How many is this—five? No, six?!” says her mother.

Anna bites onto her lip. She nods.

Her father actually leaps from his chair, knocking it down and—thank god—doesn’t knock the table over. Wow, Anna’s never seen him like this. He’s practically dancing and skipping, and, _oof—_

“Yes! YES! Anna, good job! _Wow_! Early admission _and_ scholarship?!”

—thrown his arms around her, lifting her from her seat. The faint smell of cologne clings onto his shirt, and that’s when Anna realizes that she’s trapped in a bear hug. Her father isn’t particularly big or anything, but he hasn’t hugged her like this since… well, since she was a kid.

A hand comes to touch her back, but Anna doesn’t even need to look to know whose it is. Another pair of arms wrap around her, and Anna sighs in comfort when she smells her mom’s perfume.

It’s nice. The two of their scents. She really, really did miss them for the past month.

“I’m so proud of you, Anna,” her mother says into her shoulder.

Agnarr pulls away, and Anna swears—she can see tears in his eyes. Seeing her father like this makes her a bit emotional, honestly. She turns to glance at her mother, who, likewise, has that same, unwavering look of pride.

When the emotions have calmed down, Anna is at last released from her parents’ group hug. Quite naturally, her gaze meets Elsa’s, and the girl is looking at her with nothing but love. Soft, gentle, unspoken.

That’s all Anna needs.

“So,” her father gives her one last, habitual ruffle on the head. “Which offer are you going to accept? You never told us you’ve applied to schools out of the country!”

“Goodness, you’ve even applied to schools in the U.K.?”

She chuckles, mostly due to her parents’ genuine surprise. They aren’t particularly strict, which is weird, considering their backgrounds, but she is very glad that she turned out to be, _well,_ okay. As in, somewhat accomplished? Something like that. At least for seventeen-year-olds’ standards.

“I don’t know yet,” Anna responds. “I’ve applied to a few more universities, so maybe I should wait for their replies before deciding.”

“Smart,” her father bobs his head. “Can’t rush this. It is your future, after all.”

“Have you thought of what you want to study? Perhaps that will help you with your decision?” her mother suggests.

“Oh, I, uh…” Anna hesitates. Her eyes naturally find Elsa’s again, this time, in need of some confidence.

Elsa understands immediately. She nods, urging her to continue.

 _Okay. Alright._ “I’m… thinking of getting into poli-sci? Possibly a minor in business, as well. I-it’s all just preliminary, though! I have no idea.”

“Political science and business?”

“Then…”

The two gasp—once again, at the same time. Jeez, they’re so synchronized. It’s no wonder they’re married, Anna thinks with an internal smirk.

“Yeeeeeah, so, like…” she says, trying to act like she doesn’t know what she’s saying, “do you think that, I dunno,” Anna shrugs, “the, uh, Eriksen’s would want another lawyer in the family?”

There’s really no other way to explain this.

Really, Anna has had her suspicions. She was about ninety-nine percent sure that her parents would break down into tears of joy after the announcement. Upon being trapped in yet another one of their bear hugs and, _ugh,_ kisses, though— _well,_ needless to say, her point is very much proven.

* * *

 _“Ahh—”_ Anna opens her mouth wide. “Elsa, _ahhhh…”_

The blonde groans as she rolls her eyes. “Get one yourself. There’s so much more!”

Anna frowns. Atrocious. Elsa’s refusing to feed her! She snuggles higher in her lap, pushing herself up until her head is butting against the girl’s stomach. “Elsa, Elsa. _Ahhhhh—”_

“Oh my goodness,” she laughs and finally gives in. “Fine, here you go.” Very carefully, she brings the sandwich to Anna’s mouth, letting her take a big, greedy bite.

She would’ve lost her finger or something if Anna didn’t love her so much.

“Pig.” Elsa teases. She helps the younger girl wipe away the crumbs around her mouth.

Anna chews quietly as she watches the blonde, watching her. At this angle, Elsa’s white-gold hair mingles beautifully with the cherry blossom tree that they’re resting under. The pink petals fall like snowflakes, covering the grass field they’re on in a sparse pink. It’s almost like they’re living in a painting. And the atmosphere—everything is so nice; they could not have picked a better day for a picnic. The spring air carries a breeze that hangs between the chills of winter and the welcoming of summer. The blue sky accompanied by the occasional cloud enhance the late March landscape most fittingly. There couldn’t be a scenery more beautiful than this.

“Sit up when you’re eating,” Elsa tells her. “You don’t want the food go down the wrong pipe.”

Anna chews on as she answers. “ _Mn yrrr mmp mm sm cmmftbmm.”_

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re saying,” she deadpans.

Anna forces the chunk down her throat. Yum. She’s got to get herself another one later. Or, like, once she actually has the will to sit up. The picnic basket is _right there_.

“I said,” Anna licks her lips clean, “But your lap is so comfortable.”

“I’d assume that it is,” Elsa pokes her on the nose. A boop. “You’ve been lying here for so long, my legs are getting numb.”

“Can I help it?” Anna takes a deep breath. “You’re the perfect pillow.”

“Is that a way to say that I’ve gained weight…?”

She chuckles. “Well… I haven’t seen you working out at all. Didn’t you say you do a lot of yoga? I’ve never seen you do it.”

“I-I don’t do it in front of you!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like an audience when I… um…”

“Make weird positions?” Anna finishes for her. The flush on Elsa’s cheeks is evident, which prompts her to go on, “But I’ve seen you in weirder positions, no?”

 _“Anna!”_ Elsa hisses, shoving her off her lap.

“Ow.” Anna winces when she lands on the ground, barely containing her little giggles.

“I hate you.”

“Mhmm,” as naturally as breathing air, Anna just pushes herself back up, lying in Elsa’s lap once more.

And, just as naturally, Elsa adjusts. She grabs Anna’s jacket, discarded on the side and pulls it up to the redhead’s chin. “It’s not summer yet,” she says. “You should keep it on.”

“You’re warm enough,” Anna closes her eyes.

Elsa brings a hand to the younger girl’s cheek. Indeed, when her skin touches Anna’s, all the latter can feel is warmth. She smiles, leaning into Elsa’s palm.

“Hey,” Elsa calls in a whisper.

“Hm?”

“You still in on that Japan trip?”

Anna’s eyes shoot wide open.

When Elsa smiles, her perfect teeth show, and she just _shines._ “I’ve got my schedule for summer. My last exam is some time in the beginning of August. Meaning, I have most of August free.”

The joy, the sheer thrill hits her like adrenaline. Anna thinks that, for a second, she’s stuck on some kind of high, unable to get out of it, and then finally, she inhales. God, Elsa and her randomness. Hit her out of the left field and all. That’s it—she has to come up with a smoother reply. “… You’re really serious about that honeymoon, aren’t you?”

“I…!” The redness returns; this time, it fills Elsa’s entire face. _Wow,_ is she a tomato?

Anna’s chest bubbles with laughter. But she can’t bear to have Elsa stay angry. Blindly, without breaking eye contact, Anna reaches for Elsa’s hand. She finds it with ease, of course, as she always does. Their hands always come together in the most natural way. Anna holds onto it with a firmness. “I’m serious about it too, y’know? When I agreed to it that day,” she assures.

Slowly, Elsa breaks out of her pout. Those puffed up cheeks revert to the beautiful smile Anna adores so much, and when she brings Elsa’s hand to her lips, everything just quiets down.

The wind, the sky, the ruffling of the cherry blossoms.

It’s like the universe is giving them a moment.

From here on, every moment between them should be cherished.

Every moment with Elsa will forever be kept in her heart.

“Let’s make the most of what we have, Anna,” Elsa says, as if on cue.

Her heart swells. She’s been feeling that a lot lately. Or, just. Y’know. When Elsa’s around. Her grip on the blonde’s hand tightens. She kisses it again.

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are MAD CRAZY ;_; how can the feedback always be so good?!? surely, i am screwing up somewhere and you guys are just holding back on me, right????
> 
> jokes aside, i really, really, REALLY want to thank you all for your continuous support. i know i say it all the time, but i really appreciate it. i'd also like to dedicate this space to thank Elore813 for being the first to draw for this fic, TonyPhan27 for the AMAZING depiction of Elsa (in Anna's POV, aka HOT AF), and SanWu_35 for the ONE COMMISSION AND THEN PROCEEDED TO GIVE ME ANOTHER ONE FOR FREE!!!! So please, everyone, GO CHECK THEM OUT! you can find them on twitter/tumblr/pixiv!!! PLEASE, THEY ARE SO TALENTED!! it's from artists like them that inspire me to continue writing, so by supporting them, you're also supporting me!! :DDDD
> 
> with that out of the way, im just gonna say that we are entering the 3rd and final arc of this fic. calm down though, it's going to be the longest one (i think? for now??). give it another 15 chapters maybe lol. idk yet, we'll see :p


	22. Chapter 22

Just. Two. More. Hours.

Anna tries her hardest to clench her jaw shut as another yawn fights to come out of her. If she were counting, this would probably be the twentieth one in the past… twenty minutes? So, like, one yawn per minute. Something like that.

“Hang in there, Anna. Mall’s closing soon.”

Teary-eyed, she looks over to Shang, her co-worker, a second-year kinesiology major also attending NMU.

When asked if he knew of an Elsa, very politely, he gives her a shy ‘no’. It’s nothing surprising; the campus of NMU is huge with a whopping number of over forty-thousand students. Plus, the engineering and kinesiology faculties have literally nothing to do with each other.

Anyway, ever since applying to this job, she and Shang have been mostly put on shifts together. It’s likely because the guy is nearly manager-level and can take care of a newbie such as herself. Not that she’d complain because, after all, he’s a really nice guy.

“Sorry,” Anna says, standing straight again. There are no clocks in the store, nor is she carrying a watch, _nor_ is she allowed to take out her phone to check the time, but she swears that everything moves more slowly at these hours. Honestly speaking, Anna actually prefers the busier times—like when groups of people rush in? Or, even when she has to juggle between running into the backroom again and again to appease to the demanding customers, asking for different sizes of shoes. She most certainly enjoys giving out advice to people who are into sports, telling them which types of shoes are the most suitable for which type of activity.

Anyway, point is.

She hates these quiet hours. Can’t go home, can’t talk to anyone, can’t do anything.

“Got any plans for the rest of spring break, Shang?” Conversing with her co-worker really is the only thing that she can do.

He smiles as he occupies himself with the displays of the shoes along the wall, putting them in place and fixing the laces on them. “Probably just going to chill,” he confesses. “Maybe spend a couple more hours at the gym? Not really sure.”

Anna chuckles. “You look great already. Don’t go overboard. It’s gonna get your body all disproportionate.”

Shang dips his head, as though it can hide his blush. Truthfully, for a guy who wears a man-bun, Shang is ironically very cute—not douchey at all. He gets flustered quite easily around female customers, especially when they try to flirt with him; it makes Anna wonder if he has a girlfriend. Well, if he doesn’t, it’s probably really easy for him if he wanted to find one. 

“What about you, Anna?” Shang asks. “I saw you on the schedule for the entire week. You sure you want to waste your spring break working?”

“Yeah, I’m just,” she shrugs, “trying to save up. Probably going to go to Japan this summer, and I heard it can be quite pricey there, so yeah.”

“Ah,” he nods. “It can be. If you go to the big cities, that is. I think the countryside is okay, though. But people there speak, like, zero English. So, it’ll be a challenge getting around.”

“Have you been there before? You seem to know a lot.”

He reaches to fix his hair, tightening his bun a little. “When I was a kid, yeah,” he says. “Had one of my karate championships there. Didn’t win anything, but it was a nice trip I had with my dad. It’d be nice to go back.”

Anna hums in response.

Maybe around two, three customers come in? Whatever. A few more customers come in without purchasing anything—just pretended to browse around—and it’s finally time to close. Shang very kindly says that he’ll mop up the floor, while Anna has the slightly less harrowing job of locking up the cash register and the storage before changing out of that pseudo-referee uniform-thing the store requires its employees to wear.

“You sure you don’t want me to help?” Anna, now in her normal clothes, asks.

“I’m good,” Shang says. “Just about done. Gonna get changed and I’ll be heading out as well. You get home safe, alright?”

She smiles, grateful that she’s paired up with such a nice guy. If she recalls, she will be working with him again on Wednesday, so it’s probably best if she volunteered to clean up on that day. To, y’know, repay the favour and all.

Anna takes out her phone and checks for her messages.

_‘I’ve parked at the west entrance.’_

Her smile widens and she starts typing, _‘I’m just packing up. Be right out!’_

Knowing full well that she’s been standing here rudely whilst leaving her co-worker hanging, Anna speaks up, “Thanks again, Shang. I’ll be seeing you Wednesday. That’s your next shift, right?”

“Yep,” he smiles. “Goodnight, Anna.”

“Goodnight!”

Anna paces herself a little, which is completely okay considering how empty the mall is. Most of the stores are closed. Lights off and everything. The P.A. system of the mall gives its shoppers another one of those warnings of how the place is closing, and Anna soon finds herself at the west entrance. Much like the interior, the parking lot of the mall is quite empty as well. She easily spots the _not-so-conspicuous_ , navy blue Mercedes-AMG C43 Coupe _,_ parked so close by with its glaring white headlights shining in her face. It’s not Elsa’s fault, seriously, but that thing can be rather blinding. These major car brands and all, always being so extra. It’s even easier to spot that gorgeous blonde driver, waving at her so enthusiastically from the inside. Anna grins, joy filling up to her eyes as she realizes that it is impossible to get bored of this sight. Every time Elsa comes pick her up, she feels this way. Anna makes her way to the car and gets into the passenger seat quickly. Despite being April, the night air can still get quite chilly.

“Hey,” Anna greets. “Sorry, were you waiting long?”

Elsa shakes her head. “No, I just got here,” she pauses to reach behind the car for a paper bag of some sort. “I’ve got you some dinner. Careful, though. I think it’s really hot.”

“Aw, thank you,” she leans over to peck Elsa on the cheek. “What’d you get me?”

“Macaroni and cheese. It came with hot soup,” Elsa says, putting the car on drive. “Seatbelts.”

Anna’s smile reaches her ears. She does as she is told, carefully strapping the seatbelt on without tipping the paper bag over. Once the car starts driving, she takes out the container with the macaroni. The soup can wait—can’t risk spilling stuff over Elsa’s white leather seats.

“Ooh, with extra cheese!” Anna says, twirling the strings of melted cheese with the plastic fork provided. “You really _are_ trying to get me fat. I was joking that one time. You don’t have to come back at me like this.” At the corner of her eyes, Anna sees Elsa doing an eye-roll as she smiles to herself. “How was tutoring? Got any unbearable students today?”

“My students are all well-behaved, thank you very much,” Elsa chimes. “Unlike a certain someone.”

“Hey! I was _very_ well-behaved when you were my tutor. I think. I mean, I don’t think I ever talked back at you,” she argues, poking her fork into a few macaronis to Elsa’s lips, who, then, takes the bite naturally.

“Yes, you were tolerable,” Elsa says upon swallowing. Emphasis on the _were._ But before Anna can retort, she continues, “Have it for yourself, Anna. I bought it for you because I know you’re always hungry after work.”

“You’re not hungry?”

Elsa smiles. “The student I had before invited me to dinner, so I’m pretty full. Oh! You’ll never believe who she is.”

“Hm?” Anna takes another bite. “Who is it?”

“Remember that time I came to watch you play basketball? Against Northuldra? It’s that girl who crashed into you.”

She jolts. While Anna does indeed remember that girl’s face, she is quite terrible with names. All she knows is that it’s—“Thirty-seven?”

“What?”

“The number on her jersey,” Anna explains. “It’s thirty-seven.”

“Oh, is it? Well, her name is Honeymaren, and she’s actually a very sweet girl.”

Anna listens silently, scooping another bite from her macaroni.

“Very hardworking too,” Elsa goes on. “She’s scheduled me for the rest of the week.”

Another bite.

“And she even remembers me from the game! Which is why she’s always speaking to me so apologetically… I tell her to relax and that there are no hard feelings, but she keeps on talking to me like she owes me her life. It’s quite embarrassing, really.”

Anna tries her hardest to not roll her eyes in disdain. Seriously. _Of course_ she should be apologetic to Elsa! If it weren’t for her, Elsa wouldn’t have gotten that bruise! Not that it was a severe injury or anything, but she freaking _hurt_ Elsa! That girl should be glad that they weren’t a thing yet back then, otherwise Anna would’ve rolled up her metaphoric sleeve and beat the living sh—

“Anna?”

She jumps. “Hm? Yeah?”

“You got all quiet all of a sudden. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Anna says, “Just finishing up my food.”

Elsa hums.

She would think that’s the end of the Thirty-Seven talk, but then—

“Honeymaren’s family was so kind to me as well. Oh, and her twin brother is the shyest person I’ve ever met! And this is coming from me…”

_Ugh._

Oops, it slipped. Anna actually grumbled a little and rolled her eyes simultaneously. Though, it doesn’t seem like Elsa’s noticed. The girl’s still going on about Thirty-Seven. Seriously. _Jeez._ What’s so interesting about some girl who is on the senior basketball team, is hardworking, is average-looking, and is—

_Wait._

That’s… that’s kind of what Anna is herself, right? S-so… Elsa’s fascinated by Thirty-Seven because she has some traces of Anna in her? Okay, no, that can’t be it. Just calm down. Thirty-Seven’s not a redhead. She certainly isn’t smart either, because she needs to schedule Elsa for the entire spring break— _wait,_ no. Anna herself didn’t need Elsa back then. She simply scheduled for Elsa for the sake of _being_ with Elsa! So, like, Thirty-Seven could possibly be doing the same thing, and… oh god. She’s not interested in Elsa, is she?! So help her, if she is, _holy shit,_ then… _then…!_

“… kind of like you, to be honest.”

Anna blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Honeymaren,” Elsa smiles. “She reminds me of you.”

Okay. It’s confirmed. Elsa sees a bit of Anna in Thirty-Seven, which is why she can’t stop talking about her. Anna knows by now that she is Elsa’s type. Thirty-Seven is like Anna. Thirty-Seven reminds Elsa of Anna. Therefore… Elsa is interested in Thirty-Seven…?

Suddenly, Anna feels nauseous, and she knows it’s not the extra cheese from her macaroni.

Man, she isn’t supposed to be so choked about this. Is she supposed to be choked? Elsa has every right to talk about things that interest her, and if, _well._ If this Thirty-Seven interests her, then maybe it’s okay. It’s fine. Anna thinks she shouldn’t dwell on it so much.

So, she sits up straighter and smiles along. “She sounds like a fun person.”

Elsa giggles that adorable giggle of hers. One that Anna is, or, _was_ (at this point) certain that only she could evoke out of Elsa. “She is very funny. I quite enjoy our sessions together.”

“That’s good,” Anna says. She closes the lid of the container and puts everything back into the paper bag.

“That’s all you’re having?”

“Yeah, I’m just,” Anna maintains that smile, “probably will eat more when we’re back up on the mountain. I don’t want to make a mess in your car.” She would give herself a pat on the back for being able to sound so normal. Had Elsa told her this two months ago, Anna would probably be throwing a fit. Alright, maybe not to such an immature extent, but about close. Maybe.

And as Elsa continues to drive, going on about her day with Thirty-Seven, Anna just stays quiet and listens.

* * *

It goes by coincidence that NMU and high schools’ spring breaks coincide this year, and quite frankly, any normal couple would use this time to go on vacations, fly down to the south to party, or, simply, to take a break. However, because Elsa is a busy engineering major (and isn’t one to go partying) and Anna has dedicated her entire week to her part-time job, the two of them are kind of stuck in town. In fact, they’re not doing anything fun at all. It’s no biggie, though. To Anna, being around Elsa is enough for her, and she knows that the blonde feels the same way.

Simplicity is an element that they invoke within each other; it is something that keeps them tethered to one another. Something that keeps them happy. They don’t need anything more.

Which is why Anna’s asked her parents for permission to stay up here with Elsa for the whole week. Not that she needs permission, but. Like.

She asks because soon, she’ll be off to college. Asking her parents for permission will no longer be one of the many mundane things that she has the luxury to do. Soon, she’ll be able to do things on her own volition. Soon, she’ll be making choices where her parents will have no control over. Soon, Anna will have to start _adulting,_ and so for now, she just wants to use all the time that she has to do childish things while it is still appropriate. By June, she’ll be eighteen, and it’ll really, _really_ be time to grow up.

And if she were being honest, Anna has actually had this mindset since the day she’s received her first college acceptance letter. She hasn’t told anybody what and how she thinks, obviously. Not even Elsa. After all, doing so would only make her appear _less_ mature, no? Working hard to become a successful person for Elsa aside, Anna is doing this so that she can win respect from Runeard. Elsa loves her, yes, but like herself, Elsa is also trying to gain approval from her grandfather. Needless to say, they’re in this together. Elsa isn’t the only one who has to succeed; Anna does as well.

Good news is, Anna would confidently say that for now, she’s on the right track. At least, she hopes so. Being surrounded by hardworking people has certainly impacted her in such a way.

Take Rapunzel for example. That straight-A, talented, perfectly intelligent girl has had swarms of college acceptances and scholarships handed to her. But since she already has her life figured out, none of that stuff matters when she’s already put her mind on NMU Business School. Oh, her deciding on NMU has nothing to do with Eugene, by the way (which. They’re kind of together now, but not really? Anna’s not really sure. She just knows that they’re texting a lot). Rapunzel would put the happiness of her family and her future over everything else in her life, and that is precisely why she’s accepted NMU’s offer in a blink of an eye.

Her other friends—Mulan, Merida, Ariel—have all gotten their share of good news. Anna has found it difficult to catch up with who’s going where, but she knows at the very least that nobody’s a dropout.

Even Hans, believe it or not, is going to go to Dartmouth. Yes— _the_ Dartmouth. His plan is to apply to med school afterwards or something. Apparently, getting into an Ivy League school is part of his agenda to meet the “smartest of all college chicks”. Pretty typical, yeah, but who would’ve known? Nobody told her that the guy is potentially going to become their year’s valedictorian. Then again, she hasn’t had classes with him, so Anna wouldn’t know how well he does in class. His acceptance into an Ivy League probably has something to do with his overbearing family and their many connections in whatever it is that they do, but, anyway. Not important.

The rest of the boys as well—they’ve all gotten into colleges of their choice. The ones who aren’t going to pursue further education already know what they’re doing, so Arendelle’s got a pretty solid graduating class this year.

As such, Anna is more or less pushed to be as ambitious as she can. Achieve as much as she can. No time to relax.

Well, okay. She still has that Japan trip she’s working hard for, but after that, it’s for real. After that, she’ll have to be serious. After that, it’s time to start _adulting._ After summer, she’ll no longer be here.

_Hm.  
_

Anna’s eyes wander towards Elsa.

She starts to think; it helps her stay motivated when she sees her girlfriend, time after time, hard at work. Even right now, upon coming home from work, she is working on yet another one of those assignments. It’s nearly two in the morning, and the poor girl hasn’t even had time to wash up.

Thank goodness she’s eaten, though. So, yeah, okay. _Thank you, Thirty-Seven._

“Anna.”

Oh. _Oh, shit._ She rolled her eyes just now. Really have to stop doing that.

She clears her throat. Just act innocent. Nothing’s happened. “Yeah?”

Elsa looks at her with a tired, worn-out expression. Eyes half-closed, the fringes of her hair falling in her face, her head drooping. It’s an expression that literally screams that she’s pressured by the plethora of upcoming assignments and finals. It’s evidence that she’s about to pass out because she’s been stressing over the portfolio she’s trying to put together, and it most definitely is the result of her trying too hard to not show how much it’s affecting her that her girlfriend will soon—

 _No, no._ Don’t think about that. There’s still time.

“Hey,” Anna whispers gently when the girl’s response is delayed. Not just delayed, but, just… gone. Cut off. _Sigh_ , Elsa’s eyes are closed. Yep. She fell asleep. 

Not surprising; this isn’t even the first time. It’s been getting worse lately, and though Anna will fight anyone who questions Elsa’s ability to handle her workload, sometimes she wonders if the blonde really can manage so many things, all at once.

Quietly, Anna closes the lid of her laptop. She’s just looking at dorm availability for college, nothing important. But when she makes her way to Elsa’s laptop, she makes sure to save everything before putting it to sleep. Then, just as quietly, she brings her hands up to Elsa’s shoulders, rousing her in the gentlest way possible.

“Come on, time to sleep.” Her voice barely comes out. It’s just a breath of air.

And Elsa, being the established deep sleeper that she is, doesn’t stir. Her head droops lower, and Anna can only giggle at how cute the response is.

“Did you call me over so that I can carry you to bed?” she says into Elsa’s hair.

This time, Elsa shakes her head, turning to nuzzle her face into Anna’s chest.

“Okay, okay,” Anna gives her a back rub, “there’s a good girl.”

Who, then, mumbles a little, and Anna breathes out in amusement, as she knows Elsa’s conscious enough to know that she’s being teased. Still, this isn’t the time to fool around. Elsa needs her sleep. It’s important that she gets enough rest if she’s going to work like this tomorrow. So, with a careful, controlled strength, Anna lifts Elsa up in a secure hug and, very clumsily, maneuvers the girl’s dead weight over to the bed. She lays her down with ease and adjusts Elsa’s head so that she would be lying on the pillow.

Anna lets out another sigh.

At least Elsa’s changed out of her outside clothes. Anna’s not about to undress the girl to get her into her pyjamas. The loose, oversized t-shirt that she’s wearing will suffice.

She pulls the covers up to Elsa’s chin before heading back to the table to clean everything up. Anna gathers their emptied hot chocolate mugs back into the sink; she organizes Elsa’s notes and stationery; she goes to the end of the room to turn off the lights, and finally, she follows the night light to return to the bed.

Lying down next to Elsa at night is one of her favourite things to do. The simplicity of it. But she loves it even more when Elsa is the first to fall asleep, because then, she can take the time to appreciate the girl even more. One may argue that this is a creepy habit, but, hey, Elsa’s her girlfriend now, okay?! She can do anything she wants—with taste, of course.

And so, Anna finds herself just observing.

The gentle, subdued blue tint of the moonlight that pours into Elsa’s room. It paints the girl in a hauntingly beautiful, ethereal colour. White, silver, blue. Everything on the palette that accentuates the splendour that is Elsa.

 _Ahh, jeez,_ Anna thinks with heavy eyelids, she can never be tired of this picture.

It is around this time, right when Anna thinks she’s about to experience lucid dreaming, that Elsa stirs.

But she’s too tired to keep her eyes open, so Anna just listens. She listens and _feels._

Feels Elsa coming impossibly closer. Feels Elsa wrapping her slender arms around her waist. Feels Elsa hiding her face, once again, in Anna’s chest. She feels the unrelenting strength that Elsa is using to hold her, and, even in her dream state, Anna forces herself to return the embrace.

 _“I want…”_ Elsa starts murmuring ever so softly, _“… Anna…”_

Anna can’t tell if this is a dream.

_“… don’t go…”_

She pulls Elsa even closer.

_“Anna… don’t go…”_

Anna wants to answer her.

She really does.

But she’s already fallen asleep.

* * *

By law, she’s not allowed to work more than a certain number of hours per week as a part-timer. Man, if only she could, she’d gladly take on the entire day to earn a bit more. Because in doing so, not only would she be obviously making more money, but she’d be able to put the strain off Elsa a bit. Though, there’s no way she can earn as much as the renowned tutor that Elsa has become, but still. Just a thought.

A five-hour shift is the most she’s getting today. She’s able to get off early, though, which means she can meet up with Elsa for dinner. They’ve planned to go to some sort of burger joint located downtown tonight—not something either of them is particularly fond of, but Rapunzel and Eugene have been recommending it, so, why not? Apparently, they have this really good dip that goes with the yam fries or something.

At seven, Anna waits outside the same entrance as yesterday, fully expecting Elsa to pull up with those signature bright lights of her Mercedes. Indeed, when her car shows up, Anna is momentarily blinded by them; however, when her vision adjusts, she sees that Elsa is not alone. Somebody is sitting in the passenger seat.

Huh _._

_Who…?_

She gasps.

_Oh._

On instinct, Anna’s nostrils flare. It’s out of her control. Shit. She’s clenching her teeth. _Oh god, oh god._ Stop. Don’t— _don’t be a child!_ J-just smile! Act natural, _damn it._

Anna takes a deep breath. She fixes her posture and makes her way towards the car. Driver’s side.

“Hey,” Elsa rolls down the window, greeting the redhead with that brilliant smile of hers.

“Hey, you,” Anna says. She resists the urge to glare at the person in the passenger seat. Hold back. _Hold. Back._ Don’t look.

“Anna, this is Honeymaren,” Elsa gestures to that very person. “I’m sure you two have met.”

 _Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes._ “Yep.”

The other girl starts beaming. Look at her and her smug face. All smiley and stuff. _God._ “Eriksen,” she says. “I remember you, of course.”

Oh, going by last-name basis? _Alright._ “Nattura,” Anna says in the most neutral tone she can muster. “How have you been?” _Not that she cares._

“Meh,” the girl shrugs. “Alright, I guess. No basketball to worry about, more time to focus on studies. Great job on winning the regionals, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she answers without much commitment.

… and then comes the distinct pause.

 _Right,_ she is supposed to say more than just a simple ‘thanks’. How rude.

“So, uh,” Anna adds. “What’s going on?”

The question is more so directed at Elsa, because genuinely, _what the hell is going on?_

“Oh! Um…” Elsa brushes a strand of hair behind an ear. “Honeymaren is headed downtown as well. I figured that I could give her a ride since it’s on the way.”

“Thanks for the lift,” Thirty-Seven chimes, in a stupidly enthusiastic way, might Anna add.

“Here, let me just…” Elsa puts the car on park, removes her seatbelt, and gets out of the car. She presses a button on her seat, and it slides forward, giving way for Anna slip into the back. Since Elsa’s car is a coupe, there are only two doors, so.

Alright.

Guess Anna’s the one to sit in the back.

“Hmn.”

 _Shit._ It accidentally came out. Anna didn’t mean to hum so loudly. Ugh.

“Sorry,” Elsa says immediately, looking remorseful.

No, no. Anna didn’t mean for this to happen. She’s supposed to be more mature now! Don’t get jealous over something so stupid! Just smile. _Smile, Anna._

“… she’s getting off first,” the blonde explains in a hushed tone. “It wouldn’t make sense for her to have to crawl out—it’ll be too much trouble…”

“It’s okay, Elsa. Don’t worry about it. I’ve never sat in the back. It could be more comfortable,” Anna’s voice comes out soft, and she slips right into the backseat.

Once Elsa slides her seat back to its normal position again, she gets back into the car, puts her seatbelt on, and starts driving.

Anna is perfectly content if the ride went on silently, but, of course, Thirty-Seven is ( _surprise, surprise_ ) a talkative type. So, now, she and Elsa are engaged in some kind of conversation that Anna feels no obligation to be a part of. Because, _listen._ Who the hell is Ryder? Why would she care about the teachers at Northuldra? And, yeah, okay. _Whatever._ Thirty-Seven, like herself, has gotten several college acceptances, but does it matter to Anna? Moreover! If she’s already gotten offers, why even bother with having sessions with Elsa anymore?!

God.

It pisses her off that she can see everything through the rear mirror; Elsa is completely engrossed in everything that Thirty-Seven is telling her. Her blue eyes sparkle with joy, in the same way they do when she speaks with her. Anna thought that look was exclusive to her, but… _but…!_ This is so infuriating!

Because!

What pisses her off _even more_ is the fact that she’s so frustrated. So angry over such an insignificant situation—in that her girlfriend is having an innocent, friendly talk with a perfectly innocent, friendly person! And, here Anna is, being petty. Why is she like this? Why is she holding so much disdain? _Man,_ she’s not like this. This is below her. She’s supposed to be _adulting_ soon, isn’t she?!

Anna distracts herself by looking out the window. Just have to stop looking at Elsa’s expressions, that’s all. Yeah, just… just look at the streetlights. The passing cars. The buildings that are whipping by—

“… heard the Southern Isles girls gave Arendelle a hard time during the finals.”

Anna shifts her attention to Thirty-Seven. The girl’s turned around, facing the redhead with a small smile. Ah, she wants to have a conversation with her.

“It’s expected,” Anna shrugs accordingly.

“Hope nobody rammed into you like that time,” she continues, laughing. “I should apologize, by the way. That was pretty rude of me.”

 _Yeah—_ “It’s fine,” _—you better—_ “No hard feelings,”— _for hurting Elsa._ “Stuff happens during games.”

“Still,” Thirty-Seven shifts in her seat, now facing the front once more, “I have to say, that was one of the toughest games I’ve played. We totally thought that we had you that day!”

 _You would’ve, had you not hurt Elsa—_ “We were just,” Anna tries to come up with an excuse. To cover how salty she’s being, of course, “… pressured by our coach. And our captain. She really was going to lose it on us—on _me,_ specifically—if we didn’t start playing for real.”

“You mean Mulan Fa?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Oh, gosh, she’s a legend. Didn’t she get accepted into UCLA? Man, everybody at my school seems to be in her fan club.”

“Wait, what?” Anna laughs. “She has a fan club at Northuldra?”

“Well, yeah. Pretty much at all high schools in town, actually. You didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head. “No, I… I mean I kind of knew she was popular, but not to that extent.”

“Mhmm, well. Sometimes you’re featured in the stories she’s in. On Instagram and whatnot.”

“What?!”

“Relax,” Thirty-Seven chuckles. “It’s nothing extreme. Just pictures or videos of you shooting and stuff. You probably don’t know because you’ve set your account to private; people keep trying to tag you, but it never works out. They know your name, though. So there’s that.”

Honestly. Thank goodness nobody can go on her profile. Like she’s said countless times, Anna enjoys the occasional attention, but if it means to have people she doesn’t know stalk her? Yeah, no. Typical weird people and their weird habits. Well, stalking her is one thing, but if they can find her, then they can most certainly find Elsa (because of that selfie). Anna would have none of it.

“It’s too bad you don’t use Instagram, Elsa,” Thirty-Seven turns her attention back to the blonde. “I’d be one of the tens of thousands of followers if you used it, to be honest.”

Anna feels her eyelid twitch.

“Bet you’re really popular with the guys, huh?”

_Wait._

Anna’s head shoots right up. Elsa didn’t tell her. She doesn’t know that Anna and Elsa are—

“N-no, I… I’m…” the girl in question stutters.

“I’m just kidding,” Thirty-Seven laughs. “I’m sure if you wanted, you’d be dating by now.”

… And it is in that split second, when Thirty-Seven has said those words, that Anna catches Elsa’s eyes on her through the rear mirror. Very instinctively, like she’s done something unforgivable, Elsa shirks, looking away. She does her usual thing where she scrunches up her shoulders, and Anna can see the blonde’s cheeks turning pink.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Thirty-Seven speaks up again. “Oh, Elsa, would you mind dropping me off here? I think I see my friends.”

Elsa does a smooth shoulder check and pulls up to the curb when she spots an opening.

“Thanks,” Thirty-Seven says. “I would’ve had to beg Ryder to let me have the car for tonight… which would mean I would owe him a favour. Ugh. That’d be the worst,” she gets out of the car.

“No worries,” Elsa forces a smile (Anna can still see through the mirror). “I’ll see you again tomorrow, then?”

“Yep. Three o’clock. You have a good night, Elsa.” She says, bending low to maintain eye contact. She turns to Anna. “I’ll see you around, Eriksen.”

Anna gives her a curt nod, wordless.

And she is off. Anna watches as the girl joins her friends—three or four of them—trotting down the crowded street, laughing and such.

Weirdly, as much as she wanted Thirty-Seven out of the car earlier, Anna feels that the atmosphere wouldn’t be as thick if she had stayed. The moment she stepped out of the car—the _second_ that door closed, it’s like the AC in the car malfunctioned. The air has gone stale, it’s like the lights have gone out; hell, Anna’s entire being feels ten times heavier. She can’t even bring the will to look up, to glance at that same mirror, to look Elsa in the eye.

What the hell is happening?!

“A-Anna—”

No _. Nope._ Not hearing any of it.

“You should find parking,” Anna cuts Elsa off. Her tone is sharp, _harsh._ But she can’t help it. God, she _can’t._

A brief moment of silence, and then comes a meek, “… Okay.”

Anna crosses her arms. Refuses to look at anything but whatever’s outside the window. The two don’t talk throughout the entire time Elsa tries to find a parking space, and, to clarify, it took quite a while because of the time of the day. Evening and all. People come to this area for dinner. They don’t hold hands as they usually do when they make their way to the burger joint. Elsa’s the one to ask for a table. Even when they sit down and the waiter comes to take their orders, Anna gives him a blunt _ahi tuna with yam fries,_ and that’s that. Elsa, sitting on the opposite side of their small table, asks for some salad as politely as she can. Like she’s apologizing to the waiter for Anna’s behaviour.

Which.

_Ugh._

Again. It’s infuriating. She’s so _god damn_ petty. A voice in her head tells her that Elsa probably never told Thirty-Seven their relationship because… well—Elsa just isn’t the type to scream out to the universe that she’s dating! But then another voice—a more powerful, more commanding one—tells her to stay angry. Even if this is stupid and lame and immature, just _stay mad!_

But she doesn’t want to!

She doesn’t want to fight with Elsa. Doesn’t want to be mad at her. Doesn’t— _fuck._ She doesn’t want to be like this, but why _is_ she?!

“Anna…”

 _Oh, no._ She’s going to respond with something stupid. It’s coming. Anna is biting onto her bottom lip to stop herself, but it’s coming. It’s—

“What.”

_No no no no._

“Y-you’re mad at me.”

“Really?” _No. Stop it._ “What gives you that idea?” _Seriously, Anna._

Elsa’s head is lowered. Her eyes are on the rosewood table, and she resembles so much like a child getting scolded. What Anna wouldn’t give to run over to hug her. “I’m sorry.”

Unrelenting. The words are just pouring out like vomit. “No, don’t apologize,” Anna’s unconsciously grinding her voice. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I…” Elsa’s clenched. Her expression is twisting in discomfort, and Anna can tell—she is trying so, _so_ hard. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. And you’re clearly mad…”

She forces herself to soften her tone. Just a little. _Please, subconscious._ Please stop being like this to Elsa. “No.”

 _…_ okay.

That was. _Ugh,_ god. _Thanks a lot, subconscious._

The muffled voices from patrons sitting at nearby tables, for some reason, become louder. It’s probably just Anna’s head playing tricks on her, but, damn, this is annoying.

“It’s fine, Elsa. Forget it. Let’s just have a fun night out, okay?” She says, avoiding eye contact.

“But…” Elsa argues timidly. She’s not letting this go. Which, Anna should know by now, isn’t all that surprising—Elsa is just as stubborn as she is. “… I should’ve told Honeymaren. I should’ve known. I just said that I’m picking up a ‘friend’—I shouldn’t have done that. Anna, that was my fault.”

“I said it’s fine. Let’s just drop this conversation, okay?”

“I’m—”

Anna groans. O-o _h, no._ That came out too loudly. _And…_ uh oh. Here comes an eye-roll. Anna can’t control it—she can’t—

Elsa lowers her head even more when Anna does that.

Jesus Christ, _body!_ Listen! Stop being such an asshole and listen! Anna pinches her thigh below the table. She jumps at the pain, but in turn, she lets out yet another involuntary groan.

And then.

Then.

Whimpers.

_Sobs._

Anna gasps. Slowly, she turns back to the blonde.

And, what have you?

Puffed up, pink cheeks. Tear-filled blue eyes. Tugged, shivering bottom lip. Actually, Elsa’s entire being is shivering. Shaking. _Ah, shit._ She’s on the verge of crying. Elsa’s going to crying. Oh god. Anna’s made her cry. _Anna’s_ the reason Elsa’s crying. Oh, _good lord._

Her heart pounds—scared to death what she has done. Anna recalls a similar situation back in that Christmas party when they were stranded up on the mountain; she also made Elsa upset, but not like this. It didn’t get this bad. She’s really got to rectify this. This is her fault to begin with!

“E-Els—”

“Ahi tuna burger coming right up,” the same waiter comes back, his tone way too cheerful for the current situation. Not that he knows, but, like. _Damn_. Talk about bad timing. “… The yam fries and our special mango sauce,” he places the first plate in front of Anna. “And we have a chicken salad for you!” the second plate is placed in front of Elsa. “Please enjoy!”

He’s gone. He’s done nothing wrong either, but Anna can’t help but to feel a bit ticked off by his untimely intrusion.

By now, Elsa is a trembling mess. She’s trying so hard to hold back her tears, but as a result, she’s just trembling and red and wheezing. She’s like a silent, boiling kettle. The water’s ready, but nobody is tending to it. And if nobody pays attention to it soon, the kettle might burn up. Somebody’s going to get hurt.

Not a very good analogy, but this is what Anna’s imagining right now.

And she is _not_ about to hurt Elsa.

Because once again, this is completely her fault. A childish habit gone wrong. Her stubborn nature and her inability to control her negative emotions caused all of this. In fact, even before any of this had happened, Anna already knew; it was her.

She harbours contempt towards Thirty-Seven, even though that girl’s done literally nothing wrong. She, for some reason, is jealous over Elsa and Thirty-Seven’s relationship, even though it is clearly platonic if not professional. She, very idiotically, behaved like a child over some petty, insignificant case of miscommunication.

So what if Elsa doesn’t tell others of their relationship? So what if people don’t know? So what if she wants to keep it to herself?

Elsa already told her long ago that she is not ashamed of her. Elsa already said that she wants to show Anna off to the world. It’s just…

_Enough._

No more of this nonsense. No more excuses.

“Elsa,” Anna calls her name softly.

Still sobbing, the blonde hesitates. She wipes the tears away, careful not to ruin her makeup, and then she raises her head. Large, reddened, puffy eyes looking at her with anticipation and hopefulness.

To which Anna just smiles. Their table is small enough for her to lean over to cup Elsa’s cheeks with both hands, which is exactly what Anna does. She stands, reaching over to hold onto the blonde’s face. Subtly, she helps wipe away the rest of the tears with her thumbs, and she presses her lips against Elsa’s forehead.

Her actions illicit a gentle intake of breath from the other girl. When Anna pulls away, Elsa stares at her, eyes wide, still filled with concern.

So, Anna speaks up as a final attempt to reassure her. “I’m sorry, Elsa,” she tells her gently, as if touching the petals of a flower. “I was being stupid.”

A couple of gasps later, Elsa finally evens out her trembling breath. Then, she speaks up as well. “No… no, Anna, it’s me. I was—”

“I was jealous.”

Elsa stops.

Anna gives her a sheepish smile. “Thirty-Seven never sat well with me, I think. Probably because she knocked me over. I’m such a vengeful person, aren’t I?”

Her attempt to joke doesn’t earn her a reaction from Elsa.

She goes on. “What I’m saying is…” Anna reaches over to take Elsa’s hand. She grips onto it tightly, securely. “You’re my first. You know that. Half the time I don’t even know what I’m doing when we go out on dates. So I… I don’t know what to do when other people show interest in you.”

Elsa’s cheeks redden a tad more.

 _Okay,_ she must’ve said something wrong. Anna tries to go back on topic, “O-oh, I’m not saying that you’re the type to play around! I know that you’re not that kind of person. It’s just…” she pauses, fishing for the words. Her eyes wander around the restaurant, and she’s more than glad that nobody’s paying attention to them. Because, _god,_ this speech is cheesy. “I wasn’t mad that you didn’t tell her about us. I wasn’t even mad at you. I was mad at myself.”

Finally. _Finally,_ Elsa’s grip on her hand becomes firm. Finally, she’s reciprocating.

And she’s so happy for that. Anna’s smile widens a little. “It’s exactly like that time with Hiro.”

Elsa tries to look away again, but Anna stops her.

She brings the blonde’s hand up to her lips. “Just for clarification, that time wasn’t your fault either,” her words are hushed. “I just wasn’t trying hard enough.”

“Anna…”

“And I should.”

Elsa breathes out. It sounds like a sigh of content, because she, too, is smiling. The corners of her thin, pink lips tug upwards; the faintest of smile on Elsa making her appear so mysterious, despite the fact that Anna is positive she’s discovered every facet of her by now. But no—every time Anna thinks she’s completed the puzzle, Elsa expands. A new door unlocks, and there is so much more to this girl that she can discover.

“It’s my fault as well, Anna.”

She listens, doesn’t interrupt.

Elsa lowers her head again. It’s something she does, Anna realizes, when she feels insecure. Not an easy habit to break out of, but she wants to try with all her power to help. Anna brings her other hand up to place it over Elsa’s. She hopes the warmth from her hands can encourage the girl. Anna hopes that she’s enough.

“I…” It’s not immediate. It’s a slow, gradual process, but eventually, Elsa looks up. She looks up and she goes on, “I’m not really good at talking. Especially when it comes to topics about myself.”

Oh, that Anna knows.

“I never told Honeymaren because I didn’t feel comfortable sharing so much about myself to her,” Elsa says. “I-I don’t want to share with anyone but you, Anna.”

“Mmn.” Anna nods.

“You’re the only person I ever want to talk to. I’m…”

She nods again.

“… I’m sorry. I’m not really good with this.”

Why, of course she isn’t. Anna will never forget what this girl’s been through in her younger years. Hell, that time at the hospital when they were visiting Runeard, when Elsa tried _so hard_ to tell her grandfather of their relationship—Anna thought Elsa was going to get an episode from that alone. Thinking about it now, it’s the fact that Elsa’s so accomplished now that tends to make Anna forget.

But she can’t be so naïve. Not anymore.

“So, what I mean is…” Elsa continues, this time much quieter than before, “… it was my fault as well. That time with Hiro.”

Anna’s ears perk up, like a fox on full alert.

Elsa tries to hide her face again. “I… it took me everything to tell him that I wanted to dance with you instead.”

_Huh?_

“S-so…” her voice barely projects as she speaks, for Anna is in utter shock. “You mean to say… you told him…?”

Elsa bobs her head.

“You told him that you wanted to dance with me?”

She bobs her head again.

“Like… you actually told him that you liked me before… before you told me that you liked me?!”

“Anna, stop making me tell you what you already know!”

“I’m—” she didn’t mean to, but Anna soon bursts into a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—oh my goodness…!”

“S-stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

It isn’t. It really isn’t. But at the same time, it is. Jeez, Elsa and her unpredictability. Who knows how much willpower she used to turn down Hiro that day?

But when Anna finally calms down from her fit, she kisses the knuckle of Elsa’s hand once again.

It retains the blush on Elsa’s beautiful face.

And Anna can’t tear her eyes away from her. “Well, you know what this means.”

Elsa blinks.

Anna gives her another smile. “We have a lot to work on together.”

A few more blinks.

“As in,” she points to their food on the table, “our dinner.”

This time, Elsa is the one to roll her eyes.

* * *

There is still one more hour before the parking metre expires, and so, after dinner, feeling a bit too full and bloated, the two decide to go for a walk. The streets of downtown are quite nice in the evening, so why not. Warm colours of gold and silver fairy lights cover the decorative trees during all seasons; the remaining cherry blossoms that are still in bloom somehow look better with these lights than Christmas trees ever do, and the lights coming from the stores just makes this permanently festive vibe. It’s a beautiful scenery, to say the least.

“Wanna stop for dessert?” Anna asks, tugging Elsa by the arm to walk faster.

“You just told me you’re about to throw up.” Elsa grumbles.

“C’mon, you should know by now that there is always room for dessert!”

The older girl just grunts.

Anna grins in response. “Okay, how about just ice-cream? We can share it.”

Elsa sighs.

“Pretty pleeeeease?”

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. Well, that was easy. Elsa glances down the street, “Only because we’re close to my favourite gelato place.”

Anna giggles. “That, I know.”

“You’ve planned it, didn’t you? Dragging me down this particular street.”

She sticks her tongue out playfully.

Very quickly, Elsa gets them a cone with three scoops. So much for feeling bloated, Anna thinks. Elsa wants dessert as much as she does! Anyway, they’ve gotten three different flavours: Stracciatella, tiramisu, and dark chocolate. Continuing their walk while sharing this would prove to be difficult, so they’ve opted to sit in, taking turns to scoop out of the humungous cone carefully with their respective tiny spoons. It’s difficult, because heat is much too strong in here, and their cone is melting faster than they’re eating it. Anna’s gotten brain freeze several times trying to devour the top scoop. She’s tempted to ask the workers to turn down the heat, but they’re already halfway through the second scoop. Just have to eat a bit more so that it wouldn’t collapse—

“Elsa, Eriksen!”

The familiar voice catches their attention. They turn to look towards the entrance.

_Oh._

“Hello, Honeymaren,” Elsa greets. She’s a bit more uneasy with her tone this time, which isn’t much of a surprise, after the talk they had over dinner.

But the thing is, Anna doesn’t feel so insecure anymore.

“I thought it was the two of you. Still hanging out?”

“Yep,” Anna is the one to reply. “Just finished dinner. Elsa was in desperate need of dessert, so, here we are.”

Elsa whips her head towards Anna, her plait swaying slightly with her sudden movement. “I—I wasn’t the one who was whining to have ice-cream…”

“Mhmm,” Anna scoops herself another bite, nonchalant.

Their interaction earns them a soft laughter from Honeymaren. “You guys are so cute,” she comments. “Kind of like a couple.”

If Anna had to take a shot every time Elsa’s cheeks turned pink today, she’d probably have alcohol poisoning by now. Good thing she’s still a minor, so such a scenario would never happen.

“O-oh, we’re, um,” Elsa stutters. “Just… ah…”

It’s an instinct. Anna acts on impulse. She legitimately does not think it over.

Very naturally, she reaches over, wraps her hand behind Elsa’s head gently, and pulls her in. Their lips touch, rather roughly, but who cares?

Maybe the other customers lining up for their gelato. Maybe the children sitting nearby. Maybe Honeymaren. Maybe even Elsa.

But certainly, _one-hundred percent_ not Anna.

She lets the kiss linger, angling her head a bit, purposefully probing her tongue into Elsa’s mouth to earn herself a cute moan, and then.

And then she pulls away, licking her lips clean.

Just as naturally, Anna returns to her cone. Thank goodness nothing’s melted too much during her brief intermission. She steals a glance at Elsa, who, obviously, is redder than a tomato by now.

Honeymaren, on the other hand, is just standing there, stunned.

Anna decides to do her the favour to snap her out of her senses. “Elsa _is_ dating, by the way,” she says, resting her chin on her palm as she smirks smugly at the Northuldran.

It’s like Honeymaren wants to say something, because she opens her mouth, like she’s waiting for words to come out, but then she closes it. A dilemma.

On the other end of the table, Elsa’s just burying her crimson face into her palms.

 _Oof._ Did Anna go too far this time? She doesn’t feel an ounce of regret, though. It felt right. She would do it a thousand times over if she had to.

“Hm,” Honeymaren finally says. “I am not surprised.” Like Anna, she smirks. It’s a happy, flattering expression. She backs up towards the entrance of the shop. “I wasn’t lying when I said you two are cute together.”

Anna’s reaction is a soft chuckle.

“Alright, I have to catch up with my friends,” Honeymaren smiles. “You ladies enjoy your evening _together._ ” She finishes with a wink, which is more so directed at the redhead.

“Thank you,” she says confidently.

Honeymaren gives her a single nod, and she is out of the shop.

Once she is out of sight, Anna nudges Elsa lightly on the arm. “Hey,” she calls with a soft voice. “You okay?”

Elsa stays hiding in her palms.

It’s an adorable sight, don’t get her wrong. But Anna knows when she’s gone overboard. She breathes out, fully ready to accept the consequences. What she’s done is immature, yeah. She’ll admit it this time. “Elsa? I’m sorry. I know that was too much.”

“…”

“I’ll never do it again, okay?” Anna tries to pry Elsa’s hands away from her face. “Please forgive me?”

But even after coming out of hiding, Elsa’s pouting. Flaming red cheeks and a pout. _Ugh._ This is Anna’s ultimate weakness. She could die from looking at this expression for too long.

“I…”

Elsa’s talking. Her voice is so quiet. Anna has to strain herself to listen.

“I’m not mad…” her crystal blue eyes dart upwards, meeting Anna’s teal gaze. Then, she gathers her courage to go on, “… I-I didn’t dislike it when you… when you kissed me like that.”

_… what, now?_

“I think it was nice,” Elsa confesses, “to, um. To have you be like that.”

Another puzzle piece. Another opportunity for Anna to discover her. “To have me be… jealous?”

Elsa shakes her head. “You weren’t jealous. Not just now.”

Anna’s eyelids flutter. Elsa’s right. She wasn’t being jealous. It’s beyond that. It’s—

_Oh, shit._

“You mean,” Anna lowers her voice. She leans in. “You like it when I’m… _possessive?_ ”

Elsa ducks her head. But Anna’s pretty sure that was a nod.

_Ohhh, my dear god._

“Then—” the smirk finds its way back to Anna’s face. She scoops a bit of the gelato with her little spoon and brings it to Elsa’s lips.

The blonde takes the bite. She takes the bite as she keeps her eyes on Anna’s. She keeps the little spoon in her mouth, she savours it, she lets her tongue run along its curves before letting Anna draw away. Elsa does all of this while looking at Anna with half-lidded eyes.

_Oh._

That’s kind of hot.

Anna licks her own lips, tasting the sweetness of the dark chocolate.

“—then what do you say,” her voice is barely a whisper. It is a coy, teasing tone that Anna does not know she has the ability to use. She leans in to finish what she wants to say into Elsa’s ear.

When Elsa nods eagerly, they head back—not even bothering to finish their cone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS 1K+ KUDOS??? WHAAAAAT
> 
> you're probably tired of me thanking you, so I'll keep it short:
> 
> THANK YOU! :DDDD It really is because of you guys that i am still writing. It's because of your kudos, bookmarks, and ESPECIALLY COMMENTS that motivate me on. To know that people are coming back, again and again, to read your work--it is the best thing a writer can ask for. So i'll just say this one more time: THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I will continue to deliver as best as I can for this final arc :')
> 
> P.S. I hope this chapter didn't feel like an info-dump. It definitely isn't my favourite chapter, but it is necessary nonetheless! Hope it raised some questions plot-wise!  
> P.P.S. Thank you to elore813 ONCE AGAIN for drawing for me T^T you are INSANELY talented and kind!


	23. Chapter 23

“Ow. Elsa— _OW!”_ Anna shirks away from that dangerous, _deadly_ makeup brush of Elsa’s that’s been threatening to poke her eye out of its socket for the past hour or so. “It hurts!”

“Don’t—” Elsa grabs her wrist, stopping her from scrubbing her eye, “—don’t do that! You’re going to smudge it and I’m going to have to do this all over. _Again_.”

“Ugh,” she grunts. “Putting on makeup sucks.”

The blonde, clearly amuse, giggles to her complaint. Actually, Elsa’s been laughing at every complaint Anna has thrown at her for… well, since this started. “Come on, Anna. Just mascara left and you’re good to go.”

She gives Elsa the most exaggerated, most annoyed grunt she has, pursing her lips even more to emphasize her disdain. “I regret asking you to do this.”

“Mmn,” Elsa nods, now getting another one of those ominous-looking, tiny bottles from her makeup pouch. She twists the cap and pulls ( _draws_ ) yet another one of those ominous-looking brushes ( _deathly weapon_ ), this time much thicker and rougher, and brings it to Anna’s eyes.

“Oh, come on. You’re still not done?!” Anna whines.

“This one doesn’t hurt. I promise,” Elsa encourages her with a smile. “Actually, none of them hurt. You were just being dramatic.”

Anna grunts again but complies.

The blonde giggles, covering her mouth with the knuckle of her forefinger. She brings that same hand forward, tilting Anna’s chin up and instructs softly, “Look up.” When the younger girl does as she is told with that pout that is now seemingly permanent, Elsa starts curling her eyelashes with that _deathly contraption of a device_ , delicate touches barely making contact with the tiny hairs along her waterlines and Anna tries her best not to blink.

“I don’t know how you do this every day, Elsa.”

“You get used to it,” comes Elsa’s quiet reply, never losing concentration on her work. She dips the brush back into the bottle and then comes back for the other eye, tilting Anna’s head upwards in the same manner. “I’m surprised that you’ve asked me to do this for you. You were never the type to put on makeup.”

Anna shrugs, but she gets a disapproving grunt from Elsa—a reminder to stay still. “Just… it’s a special day and all. So I thought, why not.”

Elsa chuckles as she twists the cap back on. Then, she takes out—this one Anna knows—an eyelash curler. Anna’s seen her mother use this a lot since she was a kid, so this one isn’t as scary as the rest of the other medieval devices.

“Look up again for me, Anna.” Elsa instructs.

She does as she is told, amazed by how gentle Elsa is being, despite everything.

Because, Anna’s going to be real—if this were the other way around, she would _not_ have the patience to sit through this entire process for more than ten minutes, and it’s been an hour! Jeez, Elsa’s patience is thick as steel; it’s no wonder she does well in everything that she does.

Like, for real.

Anna could be all whiny, she could throw a tantrum, she could be as annoying as humanly possible, and Elsa would _maybe_ only chide her a little. Anna thinks that she is definitely getting spoiled. Not that she’s going to complain. It feels so good to be praised and flattered and—

“I think you are already beautiful without makeup, though.” Elsa says, completely out of nowhere.

And that, of course, startles Anna. It makes her jump. She feels her cheeks grow pink, and so her instinct is to clear her throat, to look away. All in that order.

“Um.”

Well, sometimes it can be so random that she ends up feeling more embarrassed than spoiled.

A soft giggle.

In conclusion, Elsa is innocently unpredictable, which, Anna thinks, can be very dangerous.

When she looks up again, Anna sees Elsa’s eyes on her. Quiet, soft, gentle. So full of… what is it? Contentment? Admiration? A mix of both? God, it makes her feel so, _so_ freaking warm.

“We can skip the blush,” Elsa tells her with an uncharacteristic smirk, something that she does only when she knows that she truly has the upper hand in one of those miniscule arguments that they so rarely have.

Stupid Elsa and her stupid smug face. _Ugh,_ she’s so freaking adorable.

“Shut up.” Anna shoves her away, pouting.

The blonde’s giggles chime more loudly in the room, making the moment infinitely more tender.

“Okay,” she eventually says, standing up to make her way to Anna’s closet. “Let’s get you into your dress.”

Anna just watches her stride off, that soft, silky off-shoulder light-blue dress flowing so elegantly as she moves. It hugs her by the waist and is loose at the skirt area. But what fascinates Anna most is the fact that she can see so much of Elsa’s back from behind. Just. _God._ Her back.

She would argue that they are, _erm_ , pretty vanilla when it comes to being intimate, in that they tend to look at each other when they _do it,_ so it’s not often Anna gets to appreciate Elsa from behind. Don’t get her wrong, though; she loves looking at the girl. Especially when her expressions twist between that of pleasure and reluctance and… _uh,_ anyway. Where is she going with this? Oh, right. Anna doesn’t get to look at Elsa’s back all that often because she’s spent much more time looking at her, face to face. Why wouldn’t she, though? Why would Anna choose not to look at Elsa? Because, like, _look at her!_ She is picturesque. Literally a Greek goddess. Sculpted by some legendary artist who has put his entire lifework, heart, blood, sweat, and tears into this work that is _Elsa!_ It’s the whole reason Anna got stunned way back in episode one! It’s why sometimes she still finds herself speechless, utterly mesmerized by Elsa’s very presence!

What Anna means is that… it’s just… it’d be even nicer if she can look at the girl from other angles.

This doesn’t sound like a sick fetish, does it?

“Anna?”

She jolts. “Y-yes?”

Elsa gives her a curious look. “Are you going with the sundress?”

“Oh, uh,” she jumps off her bed and joins Elsa at her closet. “Yeah, I think. Not like it matters, considering how the gown is just going to cover everything up.”

The blonde takes the pale green dress out and holds it over Anna’s figure. “You eventually take that off,” she says. “Which is where this comes in.”

“You sound more excited helping me fit into the dress than anything.”

Elsa smiles. She lets Anna face the mirror at the door of the closet, where she continues to hold the dress by the straps, over the redhead. “I think you look beautiful in dresses, Anna,” she says, right next to the shorter girl’s ear.

It sends a tingle up her spine. Anna is pretty sure Elsa is not doing this on purpose. But, like.

A kiss is planted on Anna’s cheek.

Somehow, her eyes very naturally find their way to meet Elsa’s through the mirror.

And then it happens. Like a chemical reaction. Elsa’s piercing gaze manages to flip a switch inside of her. Like she’s shifted the atmosphere, turning it with her will or whatever. Something that cannot be explained by the human race. It’s alien. Anna’s heart swells. She may be sweating. Air has thickened. She swears that she is going through a cardiac arrest or something. _Whew._ Is it getting hot in here? It is close to summer, a-and with the body heat and everything, it’s… um.

In the midst of the turbulent thoughts whirling in her head and her experiencing hyperventilation alike, Elsa, in the meantime, holds onto the sundress with one hand, and her other one tugs onto the hem of Anna’s t-shirt, silently urging the redhead to get rid of it.

Anna chews on her lower lip. Jeez, Elsa sure is being weird. Since when did she become so daring? All Anna did was put on some makeup. Well, technically, Elsa put the makeup on for her, but… seriously. Nothing’s changed. This really is one of those rare moments where Elsa’s initiating.

So, who is she to say no?

She turns, looping her arms around Elsa’s neck. Their foreheads touch and their lips are an inch apart.

“How long do you think we have?” Anna whispers.

A blush forms on Elsa’s cheeks. She hesitates, and then, very shyly, she darts her eyes to the corner. “Maybe twenty minutes? I-I’m not sure if your parents want to leave earlier, though,” is Elsa’s quiet response.

Anna smirks. “Then…” she drags Elsa back to the bed with ease, pulling the taller girl on top of her as she flops down onto the mattress. Elsa catches herself with her elbows, making sure to not collapse completely over the redhead. Though, Anna would argue that even if she does, it wouldn’t matter; Elsa weighs about as much as a feather.

The blonde looks as though she’s been given permission to touch some ancient, forbidden, _holy_ treasure. Eyes wide and all.

“… you better be quick,” Anna finishes. She pulls her lower, so that her words would go right into Elsa’s ear. “Don’t want mom or dad to come in, only to see you having your way with their daughter.”

A squeak. _Yes._ Elsa actually _squeaks._ It’s a mixture of a tiny gasp and some cute, girly sound that has inadvertently escaped from the bottom of her throat. “Are you sure that we… um. That we can?”

“Elsa, you’re already on top of me. Do you really need to ask?”

The blonde swallows. She averts her gaze, embarrassed. “Then… should we lock the door?”

At that, Anna just rolls her eyes. Playfully, of course. This girl really sucks at reading the mood. Anna pulls Elsa even closer, and she finally slips; their chests are pressed together, and Anna takes the opportunity to wrap her legs around the blonde’s waist. A rather passive aggressive way to tell Elsa that her patience is wearing thin—hopefully she’d get it.

But, of course, she does. Elsa can be quite clueless at times, but she isn’t dumb. She’s nowhere near it. Anna cannot emphasize enough how intelligent this girl is, but it’s just sometimes— _sometimes—_ Elsa can be so, _so_ slow when it comes to sex. And so through trial and error, Anna has come to learn that even though she herself is the one to usually initiate, Elsa, as shy as she is, would never reject her. Almost like she’s always game for it. Like, she’s holding herself back, is too afraid to ask for herself, and so whenever Anna pushes a little, everything just _unleashes._

Which is precisely why Elsa’s already has her lips on Anna’s. The kiss they share is gentle yet hungry; Elsa’s tongue moves melodically but there is a sense of urgency; the moans that come from her are muffled but are so pronounced.

God. There is just so much contradiction with her. And Anna lives for every moment of it.

Elsa slips her hands into Anna’s shirt, its looseness making it easy for her to explore. It makes Anna groan into their kiss, it makes her own tongue move faster—touching Elsa’s, tangling together—it makes Anna writhe, pleading Elsa for more. Touch more. Feel more. She arches her back, and like telepathy, Elsa’s fingers find their way to the clip of Anna’s bra. In a smooth, unwavering motion, it snaps right off, and after yet another quick moment, Anna is naked from the top. She’s still wearing her short shorts, but does it matter at this point?

Not really.

Because Elsa already has a hand down there, slipping right into her panties. Wow, she’s taking that _better be quick_ comment rather seriously, isn’t she?

“E-Elsa…” Anna hears herself say into the kiss.

“Shh, shh…” the girl hushes.

 _Ooh, somebody’s into this._ Anna giggles to the thought. “You’re going to ruin my makeup.”

Elsa shakes her head. “It doesn’t smudge this easily,” she kisses her again. “And I didn’t help you put on lipstick.”

“Wow,” Anna laughs. “So prepared. It’s like you’re intentionally— _ahh…!”_

Her cries are silenced when Elsa crushes their lips together once more. The blonde’s slender fingers are running along her slit, skin against skin, and Anna can feel just how wet she already is. Not that she’s surprised, because, after all, when Elsa wants to, she can be very passionate. It’s nice to have her lead for a change. Though, Anna will have to assert her position when she gets the chance. Maybe tonight. Can’t let Elsa get cocky and all. For now, though—

“Elsa. _Elsa._ ” Anna lets herself get drowned in her own moans. She listens to the way Elsa breathes along with her, how she kisses her at every interval—at every opportunity Anna hitches her breath. A way to quiet down her cries. And, lost as she is, Anna’s head fights to focus on the things that Elsa is doing to her.

Such as, the two fingers that are teasing at her opening. In particular, that thumb that is running circles at her bundle of nerves. Even after all this time they’ve been together, Elsa still so courteously asks for permission. How when they make love, Elsa would always hold her close, as if scared that Anna would somehow slip away, and she would always have an arm wrapped securely around Anna’s waist. How, every time Elsa kisses her, it is filled with fervency and passion, but there is a tiny hint of restraint; Elsa does not go full throttle as Anna does. No—she does the opposite. Elsa is gentle. She is controlled.

And to counter this, every single time, Anna would respond in accordance. She has to physically tell Elsa that _it’s okay,_ before the girl would continue. Come to think of it, Elsa is probably some highborn lady—a _princess—_ in her previous life. It’s probably why she’s so polite and gentle and calm and… just…

“You’re killing me.” Anna groans.

“I’m…” Elsa sounds guilty. Not surprising at all. “… I’m sorry. I’m not trying to…”

So literal. Elsa takes everything so literally. It’s cute. It’s frustrating. It drives Anna crazy.

She bares her teeth, no longer in the mood to drag this on (because god help her if her parents _actually_ walk in on them), and she bucks her hips upwards. The wetness between her legs is begging for attention, which is why at the right angle, Elsa’s fingers slip in. It is also at that moment where Anna realizes how wound up she is. Borderline torturous. Like dangling off a cliff; if she were to let go, she’d fall into a pit of lava. But she wants to. _God,_ she desperate does.

“Elsa, please…” her voice is vulnerable, broken. Anna raises her hips. Higher. _Need more._ She needs more.

And finally, _finally._ Elsa complies. She pushes her fingers in—slowly—stops when she can reach no farther. Buried at the last knuckle, Elsa pauses, drawing back to look at the redhead. She gazes upon her in the most gorgeous, affectionate, loving way. The corners of her thin lips tug upwards, and Elsa smiles tenderly at her, as though Anna is the only thing that matters, as though she is promising Anna the world. She kisses Anna on the eyebrow, eyelid—just light pecks, nothing that lingers. She lets the tips of their noses touch, nuzzling a little, before finally coming in for a soft kiss on the lips.

Anna feels the girl smiling into the kiss, which prompts her to do the same.

But this smile is soon replaced with quiet sighs, sharp hitches of breath when Elsa wriggles her fingers inside. When that thumb draws circles again. When Elsa pulls her wrist away _just about enough,_ pushing in. Again. Again. Steadily. With rhythm. It’s a slow, comforting process. The gentleness in Elsa’s touch reflects the love that she has for the Anna. Tender, careful. Even as Elsa touches a spot that makes Anna gasp—even as Anna’s arms come up to Elsa’s head, where she digs her fingers into the white-gold locks, Elsa is constant. Nothing but softness.

Going back to that analogy, Elsa’s actions really do reflect her emotions towards Anna. It’s in her personality; it’s not something that she can easily break out of. Elsa, by nature, isn’t aggressive. She literally _can’t._

Which is why Anna has to be slightly more vocal.

“Faster, Elsa. _Please._ ”

She nods. Those same fingers move at a faster pace—one that matches Anna’s heart rate. Quick, but steady. Elsa’s thumb starts to move. Faster. Rougher. And everything is coming together so, _so_ beautifully. Anna sees stars behind her eyelids. She hears herself, gasping, moaning Elsa’s name. Relentless. Her own hands do not let go of the blonde’s head. Anna has her exactly where she wants her to be—in her neck, so that she can feel Elsa’s lips against her collarbone. It feels so good. So _hot._ Elsa nibbles on her all the time in this position. Being like this, Elsa is caught in the dilemma of using her lips her teeth. Kissing is much too soft, but biting can hurt. And so she _nibbles._ Elsa’s teeth search for something, which is where those gentle bites come in. Touches of her pearly, white teeth.

_Fuck._

Truth be told, Anna likes it when Elsa uses teeth. Yes, the blonde is never aggressive, but in the throes of their passion, Elsa would sometimes lose a bit of her inhibition and show a somewhat more spontaneous side. It’s nowhere rough, per se, but it certainly breaks out of the norms that belong to the more traditional _Elsa._ And it is one that coincidentally involves biting.

But not now. Elsa’s holding back. She isn’t biting.

“Anna…” she whispers instead, her voice nearly bringing Anna over the edge.

“Y-yeah?” Anna answers with a sound that doesn’t resemble much of her own voice that she’s used to.

Elsa kisses that collarbone. Then, she draws back, hovering right on top of Anna. “Don’t hold back,” she says this as the pace of her fingers increases.

She says this as they look each other in the eye. She does all of this and so it’s _impossible_ for Anna not to wrap her legs around this girl. _Jesus,_ if it were physically possible, Anna wants to attach herself to Elsa. A part of her mind tells her that it may just be possible, considering how _hot_ everything is. How her blood boils. Beads of sweat run down her forehead. _She’s so close._ Elsa’s heat. Elsa’s scent. Her own heat. Her own scent. Everything _mixes._ Anna is melting. She’s melting into Elsa. Inseparable.

Her muscles tense. Her jaw hangs agape, she throws her head back. Elsa’s touched a nerve somewhere, and she is so close, _so close._ Anna could have cried when those fingers retract, but when they thrust in again, they hit the same spot. She’s _there._ She’s literally there—

“Els—” Anna clenches her teeth, “—I’m—”

_“Anna, Elsa! It’s time to go. Are you ready yet?”_

Her mother’s voice.

Elsa is the first to react. Perhaps it is because Anna is too far gone—too occupied with _something else_. But Elsa’s eyes bulge. She’s frozen to the core and is on the verge of _freaking out_ , which is why her instinct is to pull away—

“No!” Anna hisses. She locks Elsa into a vice-grip. Arms and legs wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Elsa, seemingly shocked by her response, hesitates. “I-if you don’t answer…”

“Just…!” Anna rocks her hips, desperately urging Elsa to continue. “… _hurry!”_

In that moment alone, Anna thinks she’s experienced an eternity, because it takes forever for Elsa to do as she is told. Only, this time, her rhythm changes. She moves much faster. In a rush. No room for experimentation.

_“Anna! Can you hear me? Are you still changing? Come on! We’ve got to go!”_

Her mother’s voice comes from the stairs. Shit. _Shit._ She’s going to walk in on them. It’s actually going to happen. _God,_ this is bad. This is—

“Anna—” Elsa pleads.

She grits her teeth. Bucks her hips harder. _Ahh_ —she’s almost there. Almost.

_“Anna!”_

“—I’m coming!”

_Well._

Anna meant to say that in the most unironic way possible, but _._

The thing is.

Elsa has simultaneously let those fingers touch the same nerve. It sends electric currents up Anna’s spine, rendering her in a shaking mess; her body goes taut and she is hugging Elsa with her dear life—almost as though if she let go, she’d be warped out of this world.

She remains tethered to this realm, however, as she feels Elsa planting light kisses on her lips. Anna barely has the strength to return them; she’s too busy trying to catch her breath.

_“… Your dad and I are going to wait in the car, okay? Be out in five minutes!”_

Anna doesn’t bother answering. All she knows is that all her senses have dialed up to eleven. Her ears are ringing, her eyes see nothing but a blinding white light, and all she smells is Elsa. Vaguely, she can feel her own heartbeat pounding against her chest, as though she’s going through a cardiac arrest—if, that is, how a cardiac arrest feels like. Her thighs are sore and her throat is dry, but as worn out and heavy as everything feels, Anna finds a tiny ball of warmth, flickering in her centre. A strange, delicate sensation that is gradually spreading outwards to her limbs, and she is overwhelmed with the need to kiss the girl on top of her.

Who, of course, reciprocates without question. Smiles and everything.

“Anna,” Elsa calls her name like a worship between kisses. “Anna…”

She breathes in. “Hmm?”

One more kiss. “… Your mom said five minutes.”

Anna hums, but her lips continue to search for the blonde’s skin. There is such an insatiable need to touch Elsa, for as much as she can, as long as she can.

“Anna— _stop,”_ Elsa giggles. She tries to push herself off, but, again, Anna has her locked in a tight embrace. “Come on. Let’s not keep your parents waiting.”

She groans. Takes one more deep breath, “… It’s your fault I’m such a mess,” and she finally pushes herself up.

Elsa adjusts, sitting up as well, now straddling Anna’s legs. She frames the redhead’s face, soft palms on her cheeks. “What do you mean?” Elsa asks, tilting her head in wonder. “Your makeup isn’t ruined. I was very careful.”

If Anna had all the time in the world, she’d flip their positions and return the favour. She’d have her way with Elsa. She’d strip this girl out of that beautiful dress of hers and show her what she means by ‘a mess’.

 _God,_ how she wants to.

“You’re unbelievable.” Anna frowns.

Elsa just blinks.

But as enticing as that all may sound, she knows that now’s not the time for this stuff.

“You okay?” Elsa asks with genuine concern.

She heaves a sigh, hiding her head in the blonde’s shoulder. “Mhmm.”

Elsa, in turn, uses the angle to her advantage and starts fixing Anna’s hair. She combs through the strands to straighten it out. Not much effort is put into her hair—she has to wear the square hat, after all. It’s just loose, reaching her back effortlessly.

“Would you mind grabbing me a new pair of underwear?” Anna says. Blindly, she tries to grab her bra, discarded somewhere on her bed.

“O-oh, um…” Elsa scrambles to get off. She straightens her dress as she tries her utter best to avoid looking Anna’s way. As though she were in the girl’s changeroom, giving some stranger space to put on clothes.

Really.

How very _Elsa._

Anna doesn’t bother to chastise her. She just rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she smiles. Anna then makes her way to her sundress, forgotten on the floor right in front of the closet. She slips it on, smoothing it out at the ridges until she deems herself looking good enough in her reflection. _Okay,_ it is then she realizes that she doesn’t look bad. Anna doesn’t find herself particularly good looking, but the makeup certainly makes her eyes stand out. Hm. She’s kind of pretty today. Just gotta get out of these ruined panties and—

“Elsa, did you get my—” Anna turns to Elsa, hidden behind the opened closet door, and… _and…!_

Lingerie.

In Elsa’s hands.

 _Victoria’s Secret_ blue lingerie, completed with that C-cup, _nearly_ transparent bra and silk and _strings_ and _garter belts_ and _actually_ see-through panties and it is clearly something that doesn’t fit or even match Anna’s own tastes and so she knows for a fact that Elsa would know by now that this is for her and _oh god oh god oh god—_

“A-Anna… what…”

She lunges forward without thinking, grabbing the flimsy set out of Elsa’s hands, and, Anna swears—she has never moved this quickly in her life, not even when she’s playing her best in a game. She tosses the lingerie into the laundry basket as though she were taking a three-pointer (she scores, by the way), grabs a fresh pair of underwear, slips into it, and slams the drawer shut. All in that order.

All things considered, everything happens quite smoothly.

But then comes the awkward silence.

 _Ohhh shit._ Anna feels a pounding in her head. She’s pretty sure it’s her conscience holding onto a giant sledgehammer and knocking it against some gong in her brain. Because, _god damn it,_ that was stupid.

Please, _conscience,_ just yell at her. Beat her up. Let Anna drown in her own embarrassment. Oh man. This is the ultimate sin. Her being a pervert is already known, but this is— _ugh_ —this is just some sick, old man, creeper-hiding-behind-a-door-level perverseness.

Everything is so awkward. The silence is heavy enough to weigh the earth down—make it drop out of the sun’s orbit. Anna has to fix this. She has to, uh… what the hell can she do? _Oh, god._ J-just… just _say something!_

“SO!” Anna clasps her hands together. “Let’s go, shall we? Mom and dad are probably going to kill me by now!”

Elsa dips her head, thinking that this would somehow hide her reddened cheeks, but it’s futile. Anna can see how flushed she is as much as she can feel how embarrassing this whole ordeal has become.

Why, oh, why did she decide to buy that stupid lingerie? What made Anna believe that Elsa would wear something like that? It’s not in her character, it’s revealing as hell, it’s embarrassing, and it… it’s so _degrading!_

“Was…” Elsa’s voice is small.

But it’s enough to make Anna jump.

“… Was that for…” Elsa continues to speak and _oh god_ she sounds so _cute!_ “… me?”

Anna swallows. She’s considered lying. She really did. But, no. The more rational part of her tells her that a healthy relationship consists of both parties being honest with each other. Even if the truth hurts.

So, with all her courage, Anna nods.

Elsa doesn’t make a sound. Neither does Anna.

She’s afraid to look up at this point, as if she’s committed a sin (which, frankly, she did. And it’s _lust,_ if she has to spell it out).

“… okay.”

_Huh?_

Anna raises her head, eyes wide with confusion.

Elsa’s teeth tug at her bottom lip. Reddened cheeks and the ability to speak don’t seem to come hand-in-hand for the blonde, as Anna has discovered since dating her, and so Elsa ends up stuttering her next words. “Y-you think I would look okay in it?”

_Elsa, it’s the whole reason I bought it. Elsa, you’d put any Victoria’s Secret model to shame. Elsa, I would literally die if I didn’t see you wear that before the day I die._

The last statement being paradoxically nonsensical aside, Anna’s point still stands. The possible answers that Anna can give this girl are endless, which is yet another reason that she struggles with a proper, appropriate one.

“It’s something that I’d like you to wear for me, yes.”

_Okay. Alright. That wasn’t too straight-forward, was it?_

Elsa starts fiddling with her fingers.

Another moment of silence, and then she speaks up again.

“W-we should go.”

Anna just nods, not knowing what else to say. “Yeah.”

* * *

This is supposed to be an event that would go down in the history books. It’s supposed to be a life-changing phenomenon that Anna would tell her children’s children about. Along with those children’s children. It’s supposed to be a day of celebration. A special occasion where she can say goodbye to most of the people she’s known for years, because it’s unlikely that she’d ever see many of them ever again. Well, maybe if they ever cross paths, but, what are the chances?

Anyway.

Instead, what’s the only thing on her mind right now?

The lingerie.

The _stupid_ lingerie.

Each time the thought comes to mind, Anna sinks lower into her seat.

“Hey,”

Anna turns to Mulan, sitting next to her. Lucky they’re sorted by surnames; she doesn’t want to be sitting next to someone she’s not close with.

“Hungry?” Mulan whispers. She glances up at the stage, where the principal is giving some speech about integrity and honour and _whatever,_ and then, when the coast is clear, she takes out… _what is that?_

“What…”

A bag of chips. A bag of _freaking_ barbecue flavoured chips. In the middle of their convocation.

Anna gawks. “Seriously?”

“What?” Mulan shrugs. She stuffs the bag under her graduation gown, using its cloth to muffle out the sound as she opens it. A light _pop,_ like a little balloon exploding underneath a pile of clothes, and the bag of chips resurfaces. Mulan grabs a chip and stuffs the entire thing in her mouth, chewing slowly to make as little noise as possible.

“Oh my god.” Anna mutters, leaning away from her friend. No matter how much Mulan is trying, that crackling noise is still really obvious. But, like. They’re a good three rows from the front stage, so. Maybe it’s okay?

Sure enough, as if having read her mind, Mulan points the bag to her.

Anna groans softly but takes a chip, nonetheless.

Soon, the entire row is sharing that bag, which is kind of funny—with everyone cooperating to pass it along without getting caught. It’s almost like they’re drug dealing or something. Not that Anna has any idea what it’s like, but. Yeah. Her point is, it’s nice to do something so silly with her graduating class one last time.

The students are eventually called to walk across the stage. Anna did not anticipate this moment to be so nerve-wracking, because all they’re supposed to do is walk! She doesn’t have to perform a dance or anything, yet, her nerves are shooting chills all over her body. For a short while, just before the student before she herself walks, Anna hears her teeth clattering. And it’s _freaking_ May! The auditorium isn’t exactly blasting with AC, either. She’s just being dramatic. Her mind is just playing tricks on her. Stupid. _Stupid—_

_“Anna Eriksen.”_

Oh no. Her name. It… it’s being called! W-w-what should she do?!

She feels a little nudge on her back. Anna spins around and her square cap nearly falls; the tassel hits her square in the face, but she holds onto the hat while eyeing the culprit.

“Anna, go! It’s your turn!” Mulan says with an amused grin. Like Anna’s nervousness is making everything ten times funnier.

“O-okay,” Anna mouths more so than speaks. She stumbles up the stage, barely taking the time to straighten out her gown (not that it needs to be. She’s just paranoid) and starts walking.

She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t expect a bunch of cheers from the audience. Anna can most definitely hear Rapunzel’s voice. Maybe Merida. A bit of Herc? Or is that Naveen? She can definitely hear her dad. Anyway. Doesn’t matter; there are a lot of people cheering, calling out her name, and she does a hesitant little wave towards the crowd as she makes her way towards the principal.

“Congratulations, Miss Eriksen,” the man says, handing her some folder thing which she presumes (knows) is her high school diploma, and then he takes her hand. “I wish you success in your future endeavours.” 

She smiles, eyes gleaming with a sense of pride. She knows that he says this to everyone—all five-hundred-or-so members of the graduating class. She also knows that he’s probably bored as hell to do this, year after year, but this moment feels like it belongs to her, and her only.

“Thank you.” Anna says, shaking his hand firmly. They turn towards the photographer; she gets her picture taken, and she is gestured to move quickly by some person standing at the other end of the stage.

It all happens so fast. _Wow._ It dawns on her now that high school went by so fast.

The rest of name-calling… walking-across-the-stage-thing becomes a drag. Anna almost wishes that Mulan brought another bag of chips. She’s getting so hungry. She feels the need to play with her phone, but seeing how no one else is doing it—which is a surprise—she decides against it.

Then, finally. At last, valedictorian speech. The ceremony is coming to an end. They’re home stretch…!

“And now, please welcome your valedictorian, Hans Westergaard.”

 _Massive_ cheers. Especially from the voices of the senior boys’ soccer team. Not so many cheers from the girls, though. Which is understandable. Anna herself gives the guy a few _woo’s,_ prompting Mulan to give her a look.

“He’s not all that bad,” Anna says as a way to defend herself more than to defend Hans.

When the cheers and applause settle down, Hans, almost as though he is embodying the _asshole_ in him, gives everyone this smug look. Like they’re below him. Like he’s superior in every way and everyone else in the room are just peasants or whatever.

It’s all an act and is an exaggeration, Anna knows, but it doesn’t make him any less _asshole-_ looking.

One, final tie-fix later, Hans begins his speech.

He starts with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, his voice projecting throughout the entirety of the auditorium. “I know what you’re all thinking. What the hell is this handsome boy doing up here? Damn. He should be an underwear model for Calvin Klein by now. What a waste.” 

Some polite chuckles come from the parents, but the auditorium is mostly filled with half-amused, half-annoyed groans. Anna simultaneously smiles and rolls her eyes. Hans is a caricature of himself at this point.

“Because, seriously,” Hans continues. “Let’s be real. You’ve all had better attendance than I ever did. Even in freshman year. I can’t tell you how many classes I’ve skipped this year alone. No joke. You’ve all worked harder than me. Studied your asses off—”

A cough comes from the teachers, all seated behind the podium, behind Hans.

“—sorry. No cursing. Whoops. Anyway, don’t worry, my dear teachers. I was referring to the dropouts. Oh, wait,” he feigns a gasp. “Goodness, they’re not here.”

That, as lame as it is, gains some genuine laughter from the audience. Anna notices that even Mulan is chuckling a little.

“Well, idiots tend to ruin the mood for smart people anyway. So, I’ll be the one to confess how glad I am to be able to grace you beautiful, intelligent, successful children—and you children alone—with my presence.”

The laughter becomes more prominent.

“Still though,” Hans goes on as everyone quiets down. “Being chosen as valedictorian may be one of the most incredible things that has happened to me. It means I’m special, doesn’t it? I means I stand out.” He pauses to raise his hand, seemingly pointing at someone in the crowd, “It means I’ve beaten Rapunzel, doesn’t it? YEAH! How d’you like that? NERD?!”

Anna, like everyone around her, giggles and turns. She follows where Hans is pointing and spots her best friend, who, at this point, simply has her eyes rolled back so much that they’re white.

“And it most certainly means I’m more handsome than any of those losers on the basketball team,” he directs his finger to a general area—probably where most of said basketball team’s people are—“What d’you got on us, huh? Senior boys’ soccer team is SUPERIOR!” 

A loud cacophony of boys _growling_ in the auditorium ensues. It really is just the boys’ basketball and soccer teams’ rivalry being brought up. A petty dispute. It’s since died down and has become sort of a meme at this point. The entire school agrees that it’s ridiculous. All that fiasco with Hans sleeping with _­what’s-his-face’s_ girlfriend? Forgotten. Which is why in spite of the growling, there is still laughter. Anna thinks that Hans isn’t so bad with this speech thing. That is, until he points his finger at her—

“Most importantly,” he smirks.

Anna gulps.

“It means that having a hot girlfriend doesn’t define you.”

She blinks several times.

Hans lowers his hand. Retaining that smug look of his as he shifts his gaze towards the audience. “Come on, aren’t we all a little jealous of Eriksen?”

Anna hitches a sharp, _sharp_ breath.

“But,” he softens his tone. “I know for a fact that our favourite girls’ basketball MVP redhead knows that. Which is why she, like Yours Truly,” Hans flicks the lock of hair hanging over his forehead, “is able to make all the right choices to become as successful as she is.”

He did _not_ just use her as a segue!

Anna mouths him an _I’m gonna kill you_ without actual intent. Like, she’s not pissed—rather, she’s somewhat flattered. B-but still! He’s ought to tell her when he’s using her as a prop in his speech! There are people recording this! And to bring up _Elsa?!_ Ugh!

He flips through a page. “Many of you are concerned with grades. Sports. Relationships,” he says. “So much that you’re distracted by the things around you. By the opportunities. New people. New paths. New ideas. But what I’ve learned in Arendelle for the past four years is that you should never dwell on things. Because if we do, we end up being afraid of failure. If we do, we end up fearing change.

I was chosen valedictorian not because I’m smarter than you. Not because I’m better looking or any of that dumb stuff I’ve mentioned earlier,” he rubs his chin. “Okay, well. Maybe I am a bit smarter and better looking. But, what I’m trying to get at is the fact that I am standing here right now because I’ve clenched my buttcheeks _hard_ and worked hard, regardless of what you may think, and what I’ve said.”

Another cough.

“Okay, okay, Principal Arendelle,” Hans raises his hands in the air, as though the cops have him at gunpoint. “I dunno, who cares. Does anyone even know his name? Jeez.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, as I was saying,” he flips another page. “I have a plethora of brothers who graduated from this school. All of whom have made the honour roll. All of whom have graduated with distinction. Me becoming valedictorian is expected, which is why I can tell you—and I need to emphasize—with experience, I am personally, _absolutely_ terrified of failure.”

Hans has captured the entire auditorium’s attention. Anna herself is curious how this asshole-clown is able to change the tone so quickly. One minute, he’s all jokes; the next, he’s in serious mode.

“Many of you may already have a goal that you’ve set. You’ve built a path for yourself—hoping that by following this route, you will eventually achieve whatever it is that you’re after.” He shifts in his stance, his posture suddenly becoming commanding—professional. “But life sucks. I’m sure as the seventeen, eighteen-year-olds that you guys are, you know that. This world isn’t fair; things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. Which is why I’m telling you that even through hard work, you _will_ fail at times. Now, forgive me if I’m breaking character, but I’m going to be really pretentious and start quoting philosophers. Or Kelly Clarkson. Whatever. Same thing, I guess.”

He stops to let the soft, polite laughter pass. Then, he takes a deep breath. “Both Kelly Clarkson and Nietzsche said _what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger._ And while I wholeheartedly agree with this statement, what they fail to tell you is that… it _almost_ kills you.”

Anna lets out a breath of amusement.

“As valedictorian, by default, I am privileged enough to be considered accomplished for a high schooler. Which is why I’m up here, giving you this speech. But I want you to know, that behind this beautiful face,” he gestures at his features, “Despite all the girls that I easily win over—”

More boo’s and laughter.

Hans himself chuckles as well, but the tone returns to what it is before. “Despite everything, I was heavily disoriented by failure, just last year. I failed to live up to my father’s expectations. I couldn’t be like any of my brothers, all of whom I tried so hard to chase after but could never seem to reach. I’m simply not good enough. But instead of dwelling on it like an edgy, teenaged boy that some of you think I am, I picked up my shi—oh wait, sorry. Can’t curse. I got my sh—self together.”

He shakes his head, chuckling a little. His voice reverberates through the speakers.

“I started trying new things. I got more serious in sports. Shifted my focus onto courses that I actually was interested in. And, with the exception of not taking the chance to beat up that _god damn_ Southern Isles guy who gave me a red card during that one, anticlimactic game, this was a year where I felt the happiest. This was a year, where I came to understand that failure may be scary, but it really, _really_ isn’t the end of the world.”

The audience starts to applause; a couple more cheers come along, and it seems that everyone at this point is genuinely captivated by his words. Anna is so impressed that she’s almost willing to forgive him for pointing the spotlight on her earlier. _Almost._

“To this day, I still don’t know what happened. But I can say with confidence that I had never had more fun, felt more challenged, and had more conviction about what I was doing. I haven’t experienced many things. I also want to stop talking like an eighty-year-old. But I’ve discovered that there are few things in life that is more liberating than having your biggest fear realized.”

The applause returns, this time louder.

“So whether you fear or not, disappointment will come,” Hans raises his voice to get through the cheers. “But through disappointment, you will gain clarity. And through clarity, you will gain conviction and true originality, marking you as who you are—unique, _you_.”

Mulan lets out a cheer this time. Not surprising at this point. Half the graduating class is on their feet. Oddly enough, Anna finds herself just standing there, staring with a soft smile. There’s this strange sense of pride—who would’ve known that the male prostitute’s got so much in him? It’s no wonder he got into an Ivy League school. Quite honestly, Anna is happy for the guy.

“I am as scared as any of you about the future,” Hans says softly. “But I know that if I carry an open mindset—if I embraced the disappointments and mistakes that are to come, I will be okay. I know it’s not going to be easy, but, come on, we are Arendellians!”

The cheers are getting so loud, Hans’ voice can barely be heard. But people listen on. They cheer and applaud him and listen on.

“We are the smartest, most beautiful, most _badass_ high school to have ever existed!” he leans in, speaking directly into the microphone. “And so you go out there and show them who’s boss!”

Standing ovation.

“Congratulations, Graduating Class of 20—”

 _Ahh._ Can’t hear him! The crowd has gone wild…!

“—I’ll see you all on the Top Most Influential People’s list!”

As if on cue, as soon as Hans raises his hand for a farewell-salute-thing, everyone has thrown their caps into the air.

* * *

“This way, this way! Smile, you two!”

Anna turns towards the voice. Rapunzel’s mother, like any other parent in the courtyard of the theatre, is obsessively taking pictures of her daughter and Anna. The same thing happened to Mulan’s parents. And Merida’s. And Ariel’s. Basically, this whole thing feels like some kind of convention for the parents, and the kids are the exhibits. She’s confident that once her parents manage to emerge out of the exit, they’d be tying her down for an entire photoshoot.

“My cheeks are tired…” Rapunzel grumbles next to her as she tries to hold up a smile.

“Just a little more.” Anna answers, trying her best not to move her lips.

“Aaand okay! Done!” Rapunzel’s mother looks proudly at her phone. “Come, Rapunzel. Look how beautiful this picture is! Let me send this to your father.”

The golden-blonde sighs, but she trots forward whilst holding onto her cap. “Hey, make sure I’m pretty before sending it.”

Anna stays where she is, content to watch their cute interaction. Naturally, her eyes start to wander. She spots the myriad of cliques in her grade. She spots the jocks, the nerdy boys, her group of girlfriends, and, of course, the _BoyZzZz._ She’s going to have to take a picture with each of them, both individually and as groups. This may very well be the last time she can see them all.

Then, amidst the crowd, Anna spots Hans.

He is holding onto a bouquet of roses and he is standing with a woman, dressed elegantly. A blazer and a pencil skirt—she has the stature of a boss-lady of some sort. The woman looks to be in her late forties and has the same shade of hair as the boy. Anna quickly deduces that she is Hans’ mother and, before she can even blink, the woman gives Hans a brief hug, and then she’s off.

Anna watches as the woman walks off across the courtyard, pass the fences, all the way to the parking lot, until she disappears into some fancy-looking car where some guy, dressed like a chauffeur, actually opens the door for her.

“What are you staring at?”

She jumps. “H-Hans!”

“Only the most handsome one.”

“Ugh,” Anna shoves at him. “You’re so lame.”

He laughs, holding the bouquet close with an arm.

“Nice flowers.” She approaches carefully. “Are they from that woman?”

A nod. “My mother.”

“Oh.” Anna stands in silence. Why’d she leave so soon? Why didn’t she stay for pictures like the rest of the parents? Where’s Hans’ father? His brothers? So many questions, and there is a distinct sense of sadness that comes from this boy. But she doesn’t ask. She doesn’t want to pry. So, she opts for—“Nice speech, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Without warning, she punches him on the arm.

“Ow!” Obviously, it makes the boy flinch. He rubs at where Anna’s hit him. “What the hell!”

“For using me as one of your lame jokes.”

“What, you didn’t like it?” He laughs. “Compared to what I did to Punzie and the basketball dipshits, I think you had it the kindest.”

She grunts. “Not when you pull Elsa into it.”

“Protective much.”

Anna punches him again, same spot.

He groans in pain, but that’s about all. It’s around the same time that Anna finally sees her parents coming out of the theatre. Them and Elsa.

“Ah, there’s your goddess,” Hans teases, earning himself a glare from the redhead. He chuckles. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Pretty sure Herc will want another selfie with you.”

“Hm,” she nods. “I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t leave yet!”

“Got no ride,” he says with a smile. “I’ll be with the boys.”

And he’s off.

It’s true, then. She wasn’t imagining it; there really is a hint of sadness in his voice, even through that smile. It seriously makes her wonder what exactly he’s gone through.

“Anna, dear!”

Her thoughts are momentarily put on hold. As soon as she turns, she is greeted by, of course, her _dad._ Him and his bear hugs.

“Ugh. Dad, you’re going to ruin my makeup!” Her cap nearly falls off when she backs away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs. “It’s just—I can’t believe my girl’s all grown up!”

“Oh, stop being so corny,” Anna’s mother steps up. She, too, gives her daughter a hug. Only, she’s much gentler. Anna willingly falls into her embrace. But just as she gets comfortable, her mother pulls away, stepping aside to make room for a certain blonde.

Who, as it happens, is holding onto a bouquet. Sunflowers, lowkey Anna’s favourite, held together by blue wrapping paper.

“Hi.” Elsa speaks up with her signature soft voice. “Congratulations,” she says as she hands the redhead the flowers.

Anna grins, taking the literal representation of sunshine into her arms. For some reason, getting handed sunshine by Elsa makes her infinitely happier. “How come I didn’t notice the flowers earlier? We came in the same car.”

Her father laughs. “We hid them in the trunk, silly.”

“Ah.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Sunflowers do not have a peculiar scent like any other flower that she knows, but she does enjoy the subtle resinous nature-y smell that it carries. It reminds her of the outdoors, of summer. When her birthday is. Maybe that’s why she likes them so much.

“Anna!” Mulan’s voice.

She goes through quite a trial to find her friend amongst the crowd.

“Over here! The girls want to take a final team photo.”

“Oh!” Anna is about to start sprinting, but then she remembers that she’s wearing heels, so she has to act at least somewhat more ladylike. That, and she’s got to excuse herself from her parents and Elsa. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Her parents giving her an approving nod, which is expected, but when she turns to Elsa, she is greeted with that usual look of reluctance. Like she’s lost, fogbound.

So Anna gives her a smile. She takes her hand. “Come, Elsa, let me introduce you!”

“O-oh, um… I—is that okay?”

“Of course it is!” she drags her towards the group. “Guys. Guys!” When she has the attention of everyone—her friends, teammates, and their parents, she wraps an arm around Elsa’s waist. “This is Elsa,” she says proudly. “My girlfriend.”

Elsa brings her hands together in her front. She lowers her head a little but is sure to make eye contact, standing as confidently as she can. “Hello,” she greets with her shy voice. “Nice to meet you all.”

Anna doesn’t need to wait for everyone to come fighting for a handshake with the girl to know that everyone is mesmerized by her.

And it makes her so happy that she’s able to share this special day with this girl.

Her smile widens.

It makes her so happy to know that she will continue to share many more special occasions with this girl in the future that is to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long!! I blame Bottom!Anna for the delay. 
> 
> ... just kidding, i got busy with work. hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. i know there wasn't much elsa, nor was the smut your (my) preferred style, but i needed to balance things out (are there any bottom!anna fans reading this thing???) and i needed anna to graduate, so yeah. 
> 
> promise i'll make it up in the upcoming chapters, though 
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	24. Chapter 24

Anna would bet her life that there is nothing in the world that can make Elsa _smell_ bad. The girl could be a resident of the junkyard. She could go on without taking a shower for _years_. Her home could be the sewer—and still, she would smell like flowers.

Lavender and mint and starlight.

She inhales deeply, snuggling a bit closer for more.

Anna breathes in again. Each time she does it, she feels more awake. Each time she does it, she can’t help but to yearn for more. So addicting. So _good._

She nuzzles into the crook of Elsa’s neck, now attaching her lips onto the girl’s skin. Anna kisses her—follows the tendon up to Elsa’s jawline, her cheek, up to her earlobe, and then she tugs with her teeth.

Elsa moans. She tries to turn away.

But Anna has her held down. Their default sleeping position is Anna as the big spoon, after all. Like, even if they start out with Anna as the little spoon the night before, she ends up being the big one by morning. Their bodies just seem to work it out naturally.

“Elsa.” Anna nudges gently.

The blonde shakes her head.

Anna sighs. She glances at the clock on the nightstand. _6:55am._ Elsa has class at eight; Anna herself has work at eleven. Arguably, if this were any other day, it would be alright to sleep in a little.

But the thing is. Not today.

With Elsa having classes and group meetings all the way until _god-knows-when_ , the two of them are barely going to have any time together. Which sucks for a day like this, but… Anna understands. Can’t whine about it.

But it still sucks.

So… maybe instead of sleeping in…?

Anna thins her lips. Her arms around Elsa start to move.

This—it’s okay, right? Just for a bit?

One travels south, one reaches up.

A squeak escapes Elsa’s throat. The moment Anna’s fingers slip into those pyjama shorts, Elsa’s entire body tenses. _Oh,_ she’s awake now, Anna thinks with a smirk. It doesn’t stop her from continuing, however. She runs her hand lower, cupping Elsa’s heat as two fingers trace along her opening. Anna does all of this while her other hand, with the same, meticulous strength, pinches Elsa’s nipple.

“ _A-ahh…!”_ Elsa’s voice is high but soft. She tosses her head back when her hips voluntarily buck towards Anna’s hand. “Anna… _please._ ”

“Mhmm.” Anna trails kisses behind her ear, keeping the blonde in place as she pushes those same, two fingers into her. She plunges in, all the way to the last knuckle, making a hooking motion right along Elsa’s front walls. But unlike Elsa, Anna isn’t soft. She isn’t exactly the patient type, either, but she tries. She _pleads_ herself to be gentle. For Elsa. _Do it for Elsa._ And, in turn, Anna’s rhythm is frantic yet constant, rough but passionate.

In turn, Elsa needs to bury her face into the pillow to muffle out her cries.

Anna’s hand strains as her speed increases. All she can hear is her own laboured breathing, Elsa’s moans, and the soft, squelching sounds below. The wetness between Elsa’s legs is _dripping,_ and if Anna weren’t so distracted by how _hot_ everything is, she’d be more aware of the fact that Elsa’s nipple is likely all red with the constant pinching by now. She’d be aware of the fact that her teeth are leaving a harsh, aggressive bitemark on Elsa’s neck.

“ _Mm._ Anna—”

Elsa’s hips buck as frantically as Anna’s hand moves. The blonde slips into a temporary moment of stillness—body tensing and all—and then she lets out a high-pitched squeal. A sob. Hitched breaths.

Anna, meanwhile, eases her orgasm by running circles on her clit as gently as possible.

In response, Elsa buries her face deeper into the pillow. Quiet whimpers escape from the pit of her stomach each time a new wave hits her.

“You okay?” Anna says after a few more moments. Her tone comes out nonchalant, which she knows is hilariously infuriating to Elsa.

The girl in question, still going through the last bit of her high, turns—with effort—in the embrace so that she can face the redhead. “I-I was having such a good dream…” she hiccups.

A laughter bubbles in Anna’s chest. “Aw,” she says. “Pretty sure I made it better, though.”

Elsa’s cheeks redden a little.

“I’m sorry,” Anna pecks her on the tip of her nose. “Don’t be mad?”

Elsa pouts. But even as she does that, her affectionate side shows every time in the aftermath. Especially when she comes in for the hugs and kisses. This time is no exception. She wraps her arms around Anna’s neck and the latter gets the little pecks that she adores so much.

“I’ll let you get away this time.” Elsa whispers into a kiss. “… Only because it’s your birthday.”

Anna grins, so widely that her eyes become lines. “Then… stay with me in bed for a bit longer?”

Elsa grunts, but the pseudo-anger quickly dissipates. She pushes herself up and crawls to straddle Anna between her legs, coming in to kiss the younger girl on the forehead. “I can’t… I have class in an hour…”

Anna can almost feel the disappointment in Elsa’s words. She brings her arms up to hug her, to rub her back. Hopefully, this can comfort Elsa. Hopefully, this can let her know that Anna isn’t mad. That it’s okay.

But then comes the inevitable, apologetic, “I’m sorry I can’t spend the day with you.”

It’s fine. _It’s okay,_ Anna wants to say. It’s just a birthday, after all. They come every year. No big deal. She wants to tell her that—she literally has the words at the tip of her tongue, but then Elsa pulls back, and they’re looking at each other. It has come to Anna’s attention that she’s not that good of a liar, mainly because her eyes somehow have the ability to leak out the truth, no matter how hard she tries to hold back. Though, this skill is likely only applicable to Elsa, as she hasn’t lied all that much in her life. Not that she has to lie to Elsa or anything, but, it’s just… yeah.

Needless to say, Elsa’s really good at reading her emotions. Which probably isn’t all that much of a surprise, because Anna’s discovered that she, likewise, has found it easier to know what Elsa wants as of late. Is this some kind of telepathic power that couples share? A skill that they’ve developed over time? _Huh._ Weird.

So, now that Elsa’s looking at her, searching deep into her pools of teal, Anna feels nothing but self-conscious.

“… Anna?” Elsa tries, quietly. “Are you okay?”

She gives the blonde a gentle smile. It’s forced and she knows that Elsa knows, but it’s better than nothing. But it’s also getting increasingly difficult to hold back the truth. Lying to Elsa feels like the ultimate sin, and so Anna spares herself the torture of fighting against every fibre of her being to lie. She breathes in deeply, and then she starts—

“Kinda sucks that you, my parents, Rapunzel and the rest of my friends all seem to be busy today,” Anna says with a soft voice.

Elsa’s expression just _crumbles._ She looks like she’s about to cry but quickly comes in to hug Anna to hide this. “I’m so sorry…” Elsa says. “I-I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Anna hums. Elsa’s hugs always bring a smile to her face. This is enough to make her feel good again. She turns a little to kiss her on the cheek. 

And Elsa turns as well, their lips meeting halfway. “I love you,” she whispers.

Anna returns the kiss with fervour. “Love you, too.”

Elsa brings enough willpower to get off the bed—get off _Anna_ —and then she heads to the bathroom. But not before turning around to give the redhead a loving smile. “Happy birthday, Anna.” She says sweetly.

A very apparent blush spreads across her cheeks. Her heart beats warmly, and Anna grins at the blonde; their eyes remain connected up until the very last moment. Up until Elsa closes the door behind her.

For the rest of the morning, while Elsa leaves for class, Anna stays cuddled up in her girlfriend’s bed, taking in her scent for as long as she can until she, too, has to get up.

* * *

Morning shifts never really make much sense to Anna. Because, for real, who wanders into a shopping mall in the morning? Maybe, like, old people. But. _Ugh._ Again, she’s mainly complaining because she doesn’t do well during quiet hours. She’d much prefer to have a hoard of customers come in all at once so that she can have a multitude of people to talk to. The thrill of it is nice.

Now?

Well.

As per usual, being a weekday and all, it’s just her and Shang. Not that there’s a problem with Shang—in fact, he’s fine. It’s established that he’s one of the better coworkers.

“Any plans for the day, Anna?”

Usually, Anna would be the one to ask this question, but, eh, who cares. Shang is probably bored of morning shifts as well. Hence his initiation of a conversation. “Nope.” Anna answers easily. She conceals the hint of sadness she feels by forcing a smile. “You?”

His answer is a long, drawn-out sigh.

Making Anna tilt her head in wonder. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I have to babysit my little nephews.”

She breaks into a soft laughter. “You sound like you’d rather die.”

“I’m just—” he quickly defends, “… I’m not good with kids.”

“Really? You look like the fun uncle type of person.”

He face-palms. “See, that’s the thing… I’m way too nice. I end up getting bullied by them.”

“What?” She chokes. “No way. You’re, like, six feet and everything! They should totally be intimidated.”

“Six-foot-five,” he corrects politely. “But, um. My height doesn’t affect them. Neither does my angry voice, apparently. They’re out of control.”

Anna nods in sympathy. “Kids can be a handful at times. I worked at a daycare last summer, and I’ve learned that it’s necessary to establish a higher ground from the start; otherwise, they’ll just take advantage of you. Kids are smarter than you think, after all.”

“I wish somebody told me that sooner,” Shang laughs. “Now I just get abused by toddlers.”

“I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, no,” he lets out a dejected sigh. “It’s pretty bad.”

For this tall, handsome, well-mannered _and_ sporty-looking guy to appear so vulnerable, to be so bogged down by kids may be an amusing sight on its own, but Anna admits that it is a tragic one as well.

And Anna doesn’t like tragedy.

She likes all sorts of genres. Comedy, romance, and even horror. But tragedy? No. No, no, no. What’s so fun about watching a family that doesn’t get along? What’s interesting _at all_ about sad endings? None of that makes sense! Everything should be all nice—sugars and rainbows! Which is what triggers her to say—

“If you don’t mind, and… well, if you trust me, maybe I can come help for a bit?”

Shang gasps, jumping a little. “Could you?!”

Anna smiles.

But then he quickly recovers. “I-I mean. That sounds wonderful, and I trust you completely, but. Um. Are you sure that’s okay? I don’t want to bother you or anything. You probably have other plans—”

“No, it’s fine,” Anna insists. “Like I said, I got no plans for the day. I can help you look after those nephews of yours, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it’s okay with me! I-it’s just I feel bad because… are you sure? Like, really, really sure?”

She chuckles. “Yes, Shang. I really, really am.”

He sighs breathes out, seemingly in relief. “Thank you, Anna. It’s mainly to just keep them still and to make sure that they don’t break stuff in the house. I—I’ll pay you for the hours that you stay, how much should—”

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s fine! You don’t have to!”

“No, I insist. It’s going to be hard work.”

“Alright, just…” Anna is caught between being annoyed and amused. Mostly the latter, which explains why she’s laughing. “I’ll tell you the price by the end of the day, okay?”

Not that she has any intention of charging him, but if it can convince Shang—

“I owe you my life.” He says gratefully.

—then it’s good enough. Anna also decides that it’s best to not tell him about today. Not that it matters as she has nothing planned, but if he found out that it’s her birthday, he’d probably feel even worse about himself. Such a humble guy. Anna claps her hands together. “I think I’m off half an hour after you today, right?”

“Yeah, according to the schedule,” he says. “I’ll wait at the food court. Then I’ll drive you over to my place.”

Anna nods. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Shang’s car is unsurprisingly neat. Very clean. And it smells like… what is this? Clothes? It smells even more feminine than Elsa’s, probably because of all the air fresheners clipped on the vents. But why does the scent remind her of someone she knows? God, she can’t put her finger on who it is, but it definitely is someone familiar.

It’s a girl, definitely. Oh, t-this is not to say that Shang is feminine or anything. Anna’s not questioning his masculinity (not that she’s saying any of this out loud—she’s just thinking it!), but, um. Yeah. She’s not trying to be offensive. She’s just saying that his car smells like a girl.

More specifically, a girl’s… closet? No. Laundry? Oh, changeroom! Like a girl’s changeroom!

Kind of sporty, but still has a hint of cleanliness to it.

Shouldn’t be surprised; Shang has mentioned that he works out a lot. Maybe to counter the sweaty smell, he takes the precaution to keep his car clean?

Anyway. Why is she so fixated on such a miniscule detail about her co-worker’s car?!

“We’re almost there,” Shang says as he makes a turn. “I’m sorry for troubling you again, Anna.”

“It’s okay, Shang, jeez,” she chuckles. “You remind me of Elsa.”

He breathes out, chuckling softly as well. “Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she’s,” Anna pauses to find the right words, “… just as polite as you are. Always apologizing about stuff. Even when she’s never done anything wrong, she’d be apologizing.”

“Huh. My girlfriend tells me I do that as well.”

“So you _do_ have a girlfriend!” Anna exclaims.

He blinks, glancing over at her in a state of confusion.

Anna realizes that they’ve never gotten close enough to discuss each other’s relationships, so her approach just now probably came off rude. “Sorry, um. Just, uh… I’ve always thought you were too good looking and nice to not be in a relationship.”

“O-oh.”

 _Shit._ Did that come off as flirty? Anna’s not trying to be! God, she has no reason to flirt with the guy! _Quick,_ change the channel! Change the topic! _Ahhh!_

“We’re here.”

_Oh, thank god._

Anna breathes out in relief. Had that conversation drag on any longer, she would most likely have said even more embarrassing things. That, and she would probably have the need to call Elsa to apologize for _everything_ that she’s said to Shang even though she isn’t here to witness it. Oh, she might as well ask Shang to call his girlfriend so that she can apologize to her as well. B-because, like. She’s loyal to Elsa and Elsa _only!_ She likes to look at beautiful people, but that’s all! She would never do anything unfaithful—

“Anna?” Shang taps on her window. He’s already out of the car, and she’s sitting in it like an idiot.

She stumbles to get the seatbelt off before opening the door—which, in turn, almost knocks Shang on the head as she has done it way too abruptly. Good thing the guy has fast reflexes. “Sorry!” she apologizes immediately when she’s out, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m fine,” he laughs. “Didn’t even hurt me.”

“Still,” she stammers.

“It’s all good, Anna,” Shang gestures for her to follow. “C’mon. This way.”

Anna is about to give him the usual, awkwardness-breaking conversation of commenting on the house and such, but when she looks up at the place, it’s—once again—kind of familiar? Well, not the girl’s changeroom-scent-familiar that she’s experienced moments before, but the fact that she feels as though she’s been here before. Come to think of it, this clean, suburban neighbourhood, recognizable quiet streets… this place, it’s around Arendelle High, isn’t it?

“Hey, Shang,” she says, running after her co-worker.

“Yeah?”

He’s already in the house. Front door open and everything. She quickly chases after him, but not before removing her shoes. Anna steps over the foyer and, at once, knows for a fact that she’s been here before. She’d just wished that there are more lights. It’s nowhere near dark yet for a summer afternoon, but it seems as though all the curtains and blinds are shut on purpose in the house. Does Shang live with a family of vampires? More importantly, where the heck is the guy?

“Hey, where are you?” Anna asks out loud. She steps deeper into the house, passing by the living room and some other closed doors. Truth be told, the interior of this house is quite similar to her own, but it doesn’t mean that she’s just going to wander into every single corner uninvited.

“I’m, uh…” comes his distance voice, “… in the kitchen.”

Anna follows her instincts rather than Shang’s voice and eventually makes her way into said room. Odd, he’s not here—but the balcony door is opened. Could he be outside? Anna continues onward, stepping through the threshold and ends up on the patio of the backyard. The sunlight temporarily blinds her and by instinct, but she keeps moving forward, nonetheless. She raises a hand to shield her eyes from the light rays.

“Shang?” She calls again, stepping further out. “Where…”

When her vision adjusts, she sees a banner, hanging not-so-conspicuously in front of her at the cover of the patio. I-it’s a very, _very_ large banner… that has her name on it. It’s a _huge_ banner that says—

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNA!_

She gasps. In that instant, her eyes quickly scans around—colourfully-themed plates and utensils set up on a long table; balloons tied to each chair that is aligned neatly. This… this is…!

_“Happy birthday to you,”_

Anna spins around. As fast as she can, she picks out Rapunzel, Mulan, Ariel, Tiana, Meg—all the girls (most of whom are pointing their phones at the redhead as they sing along)—and…! And then there’s Herc (also pointing his phone at her) and Eric and Naveen and— _oh my god—_ Hans! The _BoyZzZz_ are all here!

_“Happy birthday to you,”_

One by one, they come out to the patio, and then—

_“Happy birthday dear Anna,”_

“Elsa…?” she says, just as the blonde emerges as well. Beautiful as always, she’s wearing a simple, light blue shirtdress that reaches her mid-thighs, matching with dark pantyhose and a pair of flats. But unlike her friends, she’s holding a cake in her hands. Eighteen lit candles placed meticulously in the… _wow!_ Is this a chocolate-flavoured ice cream cake?!

_“Happy birthday to you!”_

The applause and cheers ensue, and Anna has never felt more overwhelmed. She presses her hands against her chest, thinking that somehow, it would ease her heartbeat. Somehow, this will stop her from losing control over her emotions.

“Make a wish, Anna!” says Rapunzel in the background, who is still pointing her phone at her.

Her world spins—Anna can barely make sense of what’s going on. She has so many questions, but first thing’s first.

“O-okay!” she stutters. Just before closing her eyes, she glances at everyone. Her friends, their smiles, the happiness that radiates in the air, and then.

Then, Anna looks to Elsa, who is, of course, smiling tenderly at her.

It fills her with so much warmth, so much joy. Anna clasps her hands together and knows exactly what her wish is.

“…”

In one, big breath, she successfully blows out all the candles. This means that her dream would come true, right?

More cheers.

Elsa proceeds to place the cake down (it looks pretty heavy, not going to lie), and Anna promptly follows to help her.

“Ah-ah-ah,” comes another familiar voice.

Anna turns to it and sees none other than Eugene. He’s here as well! The guy’s already making his way over, grabbing the knife that is laying conveniently next to where the cake is. “I got this,” he winks at the redhead.

She rolls her eyes. Playfully, of course. It’s always nice to see him. “Thank you,” Anna says. She turns to the rest of her friends. “Thank you _all._ I’m… god, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just don’t cry,” Hans jokes.

“I’m trying!” Anna tries to fight the tears, but she’s already sniffling.

“Aw,” some of the girls say with a sympathetic smile.

It is then Anna feels a hand reaching for hers. Elsa greets her with a wonderful expression—the corners of her lips arched upwards and blue eyes as clear as the summer skies gleam brightly at her. Anna’s heart _swells_ at the sight and she can’t help it. Anna pulls the blonde in for a full hug.

The hug is an excuse, of course. Anna just needs some time to hide the tears.

Elsa, being as accommodating as she is, strokes the back of her head in the most comforting way possible. The tips of her fingers scratch lightly at her scalp, moving downwards to massage her neck for a brief moment, and then she combs through her locks of hair. Elsa does this for… god knows how long. Because Anna could die being in her embrace like this. All her friends watching be damned.

But all good things must come to an end. Anna eventually draws back, but not before planting a subtle kiss on the junction between Elsa’s neck and shoulder. And, just as subtly, Elsa runs her thumbs below Anna’s waterlines to wipe away the remainder of the tears.

The two grin at each other, unaware—indifferent—of what everyone is thinking.

“Cake’s ready!” Eugene announces. “Birthday girl gets the largest piece, of course,” he hands over the plate to Anna in a gentlemanly-fashion.

Which is hilarious in its own right. Eugene always tries so hard to act like a gentleman but always ends up looking more like a clown. It’s his most charming aspect, though. So it’s all good.

“Thank you,” she says to him. “Which one of you planned this?” Her question is directed to her friends, who are all passing along the plates to each other.

“Mm,” Rapunzel shakes her head. “Don’t look at me,” she says in between bites. “Because if you left it to me, I would’ve suggested a bouncy castle.”

Anna chuckles. She turns to the _BoyZzZz._

“Nah-uh, none of us,” Herc represents them, surrendering his plate and fork in air. The cake nearly slips off the plate, but he recomposes himself.

“We would’ve suggested something like paintball or airsoft.” Naveen explains.

“Ah, yes,” Hans nods. “What better way to surprise the birthday girl than to shoot the hell out of her with airsoft pellets?”

Anna gives him an eye-roll. Guys will be guys. _Oh,_ speaking of guys…! She looks around, searching for her culprit. Anna finds him with ease, as he’s standing right next to Mulan with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

She gawks. Jaw hanging agape.

“Y-your girlfriend is…!”

Shang smiles.

No wonder his car smells so familiar! It’s Mulan’s scent!

“So then, this is…”

“Her house, yes.”

Mulan giggles. “Don’t you remember coming here for my fifteenth birthday?”

“Well, I… now I do, but I couldn’t put one and one together! I was too distracted. A-and since when did you find out that Shang and I are coworkers and that I was— _ahhh!”_

Mulan laughs to her frustration. Clearly, watching someone get ticked off is amusing to her. “Sorry,” she says rather unapologetically, her tone filtered with a layer of sarcasm. “When he told me that he was working with a ‘talkative and fun redhead’, I had an idea it was you.”

“And you didn’t even tell me.” Anna glowers at Shang, non-threatening and all.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I was given specific orders to keep it a secret until the ‘big day’. You have no idea how hard it is to not talk for… I don’t know, how long has it been since I was told? Weeks, probably _._ ”

“Weeks?! How long have you planned this for!” Anna asks Mulan.

“Uh-uh, I didn’t plan this,” Mulan shakes her head. She points at someone behind Anna.

“Huh?” She raises a brow, confused. “If it’s not you, then…” she turns and meets Elsa, who appears to be having a conversation with Eugene by the table. “Elsa…?”

“Yep,” Mulan approaches her so that they can converse more quietly. “She messaged each of us individually and proposed a surprise party for you. Knew you liked hanging out with friends and all, so. Here we are. It’s around the same time Shang told me he was working with you, so it all kind of just worked out.”

Naturally, Anna’s gaze gravitates towards Elsa.

There she is, standing pristine and elegant, embodying everything that Anna loves about her. Kind, beautiful, pure. Her heart swells each time she is reminded that Elsa is _hers,_ that Elsa loves _her_. But it also hurts to think that way. Because as quickly as summer has arrived, it will soon end, and there’s nothing Anna can do about it. There is only so much time they have with each other. So, _please,_ for now, let Anna indulge herself in everything that is _Elsa._ Let this moment last.

Just for a bit longer.

“Anna. Earth to _Anna.”_

“Hmm? Yeah?” she jolts.

Mulan smiles. “Your cake,” she points to her plate. “It’s going to melt.”

* * *

It’s a relatively wholesome party, in that despite it being largely populated by groups of teenagers and young adults, neither alcohol nor marijuana is involved. Some of the boys suggested that Anna take birthday shots, but the girls—especially Mulan—defend her adamantly, claiming that just because she’s eighteen, it doesn’t mean she should go all out and drink. As a matter of fact, eighteen isn’t even the legal age to drink in most countries.

(Low key, though, Anna admits that she does want to try getting piss-drunk. She’s always wondered how it feels like, but, eh. Whatever. Maybe another day.)

Anyway, while Hans and the two older boys occupy themselves with the barbecue, the girls and the rest of the boys gather around the table, talking, gossiping, just making the most of their time, really. Because even though this is Anna’s birthday, there is an unspoken understanding that this may very well be the last time everyone’s going to see each other. In a way, this is a final high school reunion of sorts, and as glad as Anna is that everyone’s here, there is a hint of bittersweetness to it.

She watches as the girls reminisce about the mundane yet memorable times of getting in trouble in various classes, listens as the boys complain about certain teachers. She joins in at the right moment, easing Elsa into the conversation. It’s not hard—the blonde was an Arendellian a few years ago, so all the gossips about the teachers aren’t that foreign to her.

Actually, with Elsa joining in, Anna’s friends are getting some new insights on the teachers. Like Tremaine’s failed marriage, Frollo’s apparent domestic abuse case (which isn’t confirmed, by the way), and of course, Weasel Town’s endless attempt to get promoted.

This goes on for quite some time; the evening sky soon turns into a beautiful purple-pinkish hue, and Mulan has turned on the outdoor fireplace for a source of heat and light. It is around the same time that Anna decides she has taken way too many pictures with everyone and has eaten far too many burgers and honey-garlic flavoured wings for the day. She blames the former on Herc and the girls. The latter, while not that much of a bad thing, does make her feel kind of guilty. It was just Hans, Shang, and Eugene making everyone food, and although they say that they enjoy working by the grill, Anna felt that she should have done more to help.

“You sound exactly like Elsa,” Rapunzel laughs. “It took us forever to convince her that _we_ want to do something to help. That she didn’t have to organize _everything.”_

“I just… I felt like I should be responsible for doing more, considering how I was the one to contact you all.” Elsa says softly.

Hans brings another plate of wings onto the table, finally taking a seat. “Pretty sure parties are a group effort.”

“Mhmm,” the golden blonde nods. She scoots her seat closer to Elsa, being on her other side and all. “We’re happy that you’ve brought everyone together, Elsa.”

“O-oh.” She does her usual thing again. Scrunching up her shoulders, trying to appear small. Anna sees this as a chance to comfort her, reassure her. So, she snuggles closer, resting her head on the taller girl’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she calls softly.

Anna feels her shifting. She looks up to meet cerulean orbs. Smiles.

“Thank you for organizing this.”

Elsa’s cheeks become infinitely pinker. She lowers her head, shyly, but doesn’t stop smiling herself.

The sight is adorable—heartwarmingly, toothachingly-sweet, yet she finds no need to tell Elsa that. She plants a simple kiss on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Okay!” Rapunzel stands from her seat, clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Time for the birthday girl to open her presents!”

“Wait, what?” Hans is the first to react.

Anna ignores him, mostly because she herself is taken aback. “Presents?”

Her best friend grins. “You didn’t think we’d show up empty-handed, did you?”

“No, but—” she looks around. Literally _everyone_ is eyeing her with anticipation. It’s like they’re all looking forward to this event or something. “Wait, have all of you gotten me something?”

“Uh, yeah.” Mulan says as-a-matter-of-factly. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

As the basketball captain is saying that, the girls have gone into the house like a group of over-excited children running for the ice-cream truck. Except, there’s no ice-cream involved— _like,_ they just had an ice-cream cake—but, here they are, fully embracing this analogy. Not more than a few moments later, they come back out, piles of presents in hand. The rest of the people out in the backyard help clear the table to make room for the presents, which are laid out in the middle, right in front of Anna.

“Take your pick, Anna,” one of the girls say. “Which one do you want to open first?”

She doesn’t know what to say. Anna just wrings her fingers together, dipping her head low in apprehension. “You guys shouldn’t have…”

“Oh, stop talking like an old woman and just open the presents already.” Merida, always the impatient one, shoves the items closer to her.

Anna breaks into a nervous chuckle. “Okay—alright, alright. Just… calm down.”

Even though all of these presents are wrapped in different styles, Anna knows her friends well enough to know based on the wrapping paper, which present belongs to whom. For example, this one—compiled together so haphazardly—has to be from Merida. Very predictably, her Scottish friend has gotten her not just one pair of sweatpants, but _three._ Apparently, Anna gives everyone the impression that she tears her clothes really easily? Probably because she’s been wearing a lot of ripped jeans but. Doesn’t matter. She thanks Merida and move onto the other gifts. Meg and Ariel have chipped in and got her a new backpack. Also— _surprise, surprise—_ because of the fact that her current one is used beyond repair. Which, to be fair, Anna had no idea.

“It was falling apart?” She asks with genuine curiosity.

“No, not to that extent,” Ariel says, “But you could use a new one for college.”

“It comes with one of those portable phone chargers,” Meg explains with a wink.

Anna blushes. She has to look a way for a bit. Sure, she and Meg have been friends for a while, now. But it doesn’t mean Anna’s completely immune to her insatiable charisma. It’s no wonder Herc fell for her so easily. Anyway. Where was she, again?

“Thanks, you guys.”

Tiana, being one of the most thoughtful of her friends, got her a _college-sleeping-pack,_ which resembles a sleeping bag at first glance but when opened, it is a fleece blankie that comes with a very, _very_ soft pillow. Anna tests it out on the spot and thinks immediately that it will likely be more comfortable than the bed that she will get at her dorm.

Her next present is from Shang, who really didn’t have to get her anything considering the fact that they’ve only been co-workers for about two months, but it makes Anna really happy that he’s so thoughtful with his gift. It’s an entire basketball clothing set. From the tank and shorts to even the leggings _and_ socks. Full-on Nike as well, so Anna knows this isn’t cheap.

“This means that I’m going to have to keep on playing ball even in college,” Anna chuckles.

“There are a ton of recreational teams you can join, I’m sure,” Shang says. “Even if you can’t play on a professional level, you should never give up on what you like.”

Wise words from a wise college student. Anna nods avidly, taking his words to heart.

Next comes Eugene, who admits right away that he is nowhere as thoughtful as anyone else here, but he did pick up a nice red for Anna.

“Thanks,” she takes the bottle. “Except… I don’t drink. Or, more like, I can’t.”

But then Elsa takes the bottle from her grasp, wide eyed. She stares at the words on the bottle in disbelief, looks up at Eugene, speechless.

Eugene, meanwhile, gives the blonde a smug grin. Or, as he would like to call it, his smoulder. 

“Chateau Pavie?” Elsa says. She holds the bottle ever so closer, as if afraid that she might drop it. “Eugene, how did you manage to get your hands on this?”

“The Fitzherbert family knows no bounds, my dear,” he bows dramatically.

Anna, as confused as the rest of the kids here, decides to ask later. She thanks Eugene, regardless, and moves onto another gift. This time, she chooses one that is obviously a pair of shoes. It doesn’t take her long to guess that it’s from the _BoyZzZz._

“Minus Hans,” Naveen interjects. “He said he was getting something else for you, so it’s just us three.”

“Hope you like it.” Eric says.

“Come on, open it!” Herc, as per usual, takes out his phone to capture Anna’s reaction.

Anna rolls her eyes playfully, but the smile on her disappears when she sees that they didn’t just get her _any_ pair of shoes—they’ve gotten her _Air Jordan 1’s!_ As in, the red, classic, retro pair that can’t be bought anywhere.

“How…!”

“Miraculously won an extra raffle,” Herc explains quickly. “All of us got some form of variation of the _Jordan’s_ already, so we decided to chip in to get you this one. You like them?”

She’s never been much of a shoe person, but she would never disagree with how nice this pair looks. They’re not the most practical for playing basketball, so she’s really just going to wear them for style. “Thanks, guys. I’ve never owned anything so trendy before.”

“Aw, but you are naturally trendy, Anna,” Eric smiles.

His compliment gets her flustered, much like Meg’s wink. Her friends have got to stop doing this to her. Or, like, she really just has to control her emotions better.

At last, Anna moves on to one of the final two presents. She starts with the flatter looking present, wrapped in pink and gold paper. Obviously, it’s from Rapunzel and, seeing how there’s no way Mulan is going to chip in with Hans (the last present), she figures that this gift is from her two closest friends. Anna tries to be playful for a bit, shaking the present in its box in slow motion just to spite Rapunzel. She knows how the golden blonde can get needlessly anxious when it comes to opening presents. Mulan, however, is just staring with a gentle smirk, arms crossed.

Rapunzel doesn’t last a moment longer, and she reaches to shake Anna like the pissed off friend she is. “Just open it!”

“Okay, okay,” Anna laughs, finally giving in. Truth is, she herself is quite excited to see what they got her, so when she sees that it’s a brand-new iPad, complete with an Apple Pen, her jaws drop.

“You like it?” Rapunzel continues shaking her. “Do you like it?”

“I-I…!” No words. The iPad is the newest generation, so it has to be at least a grand. The Pen should be around… what, one-hundred? One-hundred-fifty? So Mulan and Rapunzel each spent about _six-hundred_ on her?! “Guys! This is legit too much!”

“Uh-uh, don’t care,” Rapunzel says, shoving the presents closer to Anna. “We’re not hearing it from you.”

“Do us a favour and just accept it so you can write more nicely? Maybe then your future classmates won’t have to struggle with reading them when they borrow your notes?” Mulan suggests, her tone ever so nonchalant.

Anna frowns.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Rapunzel starts. “Get us something equally as nice for our birthdays.”

Mulan nods. “I’m expecting a car, you hear me?”

She giggles. “Yeah, _okay._ ” Anna holds the gifts close, hugging them to her chest. “I’ll get each of you a Ferrari, how ‘bout that?”

“Ooh, yes, please.” Rapunzel cheers while Mulan rolls her eyes with a smile.

Finally, Anna reaches for the last present. Hans’. She picks up the box, and what she did previously to Rapunzel and Mulan’s, she shakes it. Whatever is inside rattles; it’s some kind of object just thrown into a box.

“You, uh…” Hans is covering the lower half of his face with a hand. “You don’t have to open it here, y’know?”

Anna raises a brow. “What do you mean? Of course I have to.” She starts unwrapping the gift. It’s held together in glossy white wrapping paper. Very minimalistic.

“No, for real, Anna.”

“No, for real, _Hans,_ ” she retorts, taking out the box. Once again, incredibly minimalistic. It’s just a white box. No designs, no words. Just plain white. She picks it up and shakes it again. “What is this?”

This time, Hans just covers his eyes with the same hand.

Which serves to pique Anna’s interest even more. She looks towards the _BoyZzZz,_ all of whom just shrug, indicating that they, too, have no idea what’s inside. She does the only thing appropriate, then. Anna finds the lid and opens it, peeking inside. The sky has long darkened, and so with the lack of light, she can’t really see. She reaches in, touches some kind of… fabric? Straps? What is this? Her fingers come in contact with something else. Long, cylinder-shaped… what’s at the base? It’s round-ish, bulging-like. _Okay,_ she gives up. She has no idea. Anna grabs the whole thing and takes it out, letting it bask in the glory of everyone’s eyes.

The only source of light coming from the fireplace illuminates the thing in an unnecessary warmth. The fire flickers, almost creating a sort of spotlight on the neon-pink, _phallic_ … thing.

And this _thing_ , as Anna understands, isn’t something that should be shown to anyone. It most definitely should _not_ be shown to the likes of her friends, as this will probably go down to be one of the most embarrassing things to have happened to her. Because of this, her friends, should they ever meet again, will continue to talk about this topic for the rest of their lives.

Because. Look. They’re already bursting in laughter.

The guys, the girls—even Rapunzel…! Her best friend, the kind, good girl, pure-hearted Rapunzel is _laughing!_

And Elsa. _Oh, god._ Poor Elsa. At the corner of her eyes, Anna sees that she is _crimson,_ trying her best to cover her face with her hands.

She has to do something. She doesn’t know what, but… but she has to do _something._

Anna tries her utter best to not turn to her friends. She prays that the fire will not show how red she is. Instead, she prays that it can stand as a backdrop to emphasize how _pissed off_ she is.

In a slow-motion, eerily calm manner, she places the _thing_ back into the box, closing the lid as she does. “Hans…” Anna hears herself calling through everyone’s laughter.

He’s still hiding behind his hand. “I told you.”

She walks forward.

Hans takes a step back.

Anna clenches her fists. “Y-you got me…” clenches her jaw, “… a… a d-di…”

“In my defense,” he starts before she can raise her voice, but he continues stepping back. “I didn’t know you were going to open the presents at the party! Who the hell does that?!”

She thinks smoke is coming out of her head by now. Not out of anger, but because of embarrassment. Like a predator, she stomps forward faster.

And Hans moves accordingly, taking yet another step back. At this point, the two of them are ready to run at their top speed. They’re just waiting to see who’s going to make the first move.

“O-okay, just… just hear me out!” He raises his hands, keeping them as a shield from Anna’s wrath. “It was embarrassing for me as well, okay?! You don’t know how fucked up it is for a dude to walk into a sex shop to ask for a dildo strap-on!”

The words compromise all of her senses—like the sounds that you’d get when you scratch your nails across a chalkboard. Shivers down her spine. That, and, her friends are still laughing in the background. Anna realizes that the two of them have pretty much stepped off the patio and are walking along a flat, grassy yard.

Which means she can run after the guy without getting worried about knocking anything over.

_Which she does._

“Holy shit…!” Hans reacts quickly, turning to run.

“Stop, you _asshole!_ ” Anna yells.

“I’m sorry!” He yells back. “I kept the receipt; you can return it if you want!”

“I’m not touching that thing!”

“Well, I’m not going back to that store!”

“I don’t care! Just take it back!”

“Hell no, dude!”

“ _Hans!”_

“No!”

And so, the two continue to run around in circles, yelling at the top of their lungs as Anna’s friends watch, laughing, holding onto their stomachs until the neighbours decide that the party has gotten a bit too loud.

* * *

“You got it?” Elsa asks, barely managing to push the door to her dorm open with her hands full.

“Yep, just…” Anna, likewise, tries to hold onto all the presents in her arms. It’s tough being greedy. She should’ve agreed to making two trips.

“Careful,” the blonde says. “Here, let’s put everything on the table…”

Anna kicks her shoes off and does as she is told. Gently, she lays everything down on the table, ensuring that nothing’s left behind. She makes a quick count and… yep. All good. “Whew,” she breathes out.

Elsa walks over to fix Anna’s fringes, combing a few stray hairs into place. “Did you have a good day?”

Anna closes her eyes, giggling as she feels her hair tickling her skin. “Yes, I did,” she grins. “Minus the part where the neighbours almost called the cops on us, that is.”

Elsa’s voice is crisp and beautiful as she, too, giggles. She steps closer, framing Anna’s cheeks in her delicate palms. “Are you… um, feeling tired yet?”

“Hm?” Anna gives her a head tilt. She did chase Hans for a good while, but she isn’t worn out in the slightest. Does Elsa want to spend more time together? Oh! It’s probably because the entire day was spent with others! Elsa probably wants to do something quiet, something that doesn’t involve a lot of noise. “No, not at all,” she answers. “You wanna do something?”

They haven’t turned on the lights yet, so the room is only illuminated by silver gleam of the moon. It’s enough for Anna to see the pink flush on Elsa’s skin, though. It’s also enough for her to see that the blonde is glancing at the side. At something on the table.

Anna follows her line of sight and sees the bottle of wine.

“Ah,” she reaches for it, holding the bottle by its neck. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What is this? Sha-what?”

Elsa breathes out in amusement. “Chateau Pavie. Depending on the year, it can be worth as much as three grand.”

“ _Three...!”_ Anna gasps. “Three grand?!”

Elsa nods. “This one’s about six-hundred dollars, I think.”

“Oh my god. I-I didn’t know. Oh, jeez… I didn’t—Eugene… ugh. That guy’s crazy.”

“He sure is,” Elsa acknowledges without hesitation. “I remember trying this once with grandfather. He had a bunch of wine brought in from a vineyard in France. I really liked this one.”

Anna blinks. It’s not often Elsa speaks her mind so openly. “You liked it?”

A nod. “It was one of the sweeter ones, so I remember it well.”

“Mmn,” she purses her lips. “Do you… want to try?”

This time, the blonde’s eyelids flutter. “W-with me?”

“You’re the adult here. If anything, I should be asking you,” Anna says jokingly.

Elsa’s mouth hangs open. She wants to speak but is struggling with what to say. “I… is that okay?”

“Do you have wine glasses?”

“Um, I—” Elsa looks to the cupboards. “I do, actually. They’re not optimal for reds, but it’s better than using mugs.”

“Great,” Anna says. She takes the bottle, “Let’s be all classy and drink wine and watch movies together. I think it’s only appropriate to celebrate my becoming an adult that way, yes?” She doesn’t wait for Elsa’s response and has already hopped off to the couch. Anna finds the remote somehow and turns on the TV. The black screen with the multiple profiles on Netflix’s default homepage gives the room a bit more light but still not enough to fill up its entirety. Not that they need any light—they’re watching a movie and all.

If that’s what Elsa wants.

Anna places the bottle carefully on the coffee table. She’s really going to have to thank Eugene properly the next time she sees him. Perhaps she can ask Rapunzel to have him come out and they can have another double date? Oh! She should ask Mulan and Shang too. Triple date!

When Elsa returns with the wine glasses and a corkscrew, Anna scoots over on the couch. The blonde puts the stuff down, right next to the bottle and takes a seat.

It’s nice that they’re caught in a quiet moment together, but is it just Anna, or is Elsa sitting a bit too stiffly?

Her back is straight, hands on her lap, and she… she looks kind of—kind of nervous?

“Elsa…?” Anna calls gently. She reaches for her, placing a hand on that pantyhose-covered thigh.

The girl jumps. She swallows. Anna can practically hear the _gulp._

“Are you okay?”

Elsa tenses. She dips her head a little, refusing to turn to Anna. “I, ah…”

Anna listens.

“… I haven’t gotten you a present, Anna.”

She breaks into a soft giggle. “Is that why you look so nervous?”

Her head lowers even more.

“Elsa, it’s okay. You organizing the party for me is more than enough. I don’t need—”

“I…!”

Elsa’s sudden interruption cuts Anna completely off. It’s not often that her polite girlfriend would do this, so Anna is genuinely surprised.

She’s even more surprised when Elsa, without warning, stands from the couch.

And so she just stares, confused.

“I d-didn’t get you anything, but…” Elsa’s voice starts off soft. She turns, now completely facing Anna. “… but you told me that y-you…” a hand reaches up to the top button of her shirt dress. She unbuttons it.

Anna’s eyes widen.

“You told me that you…” Another button.

 _Oh, god._ Cleavage.

“… wanted me t-to… wear…” more buttons.

 _Oh god._ Abdomen. And is that…?! Oh, shit. _Ohhh shit shit shit shit shit—_

Elsa has opened up her entire shirt. Slowly, shyly— _in an unintentionally, teasing fashion—_ slips the thin piece of fabric off, revealing skin.

Well, skin and a very familiar blue-black laced bra and panties and _garter belt,_ its clips strapping to the dark pantyhose that Elsa has been wearing the entire day.

_Wait._

The entire day.

The entire _FUCKING DAY—_

“… so I thought…”

 _—Jesus Christ._ Elsa’s still going at it…!

“… I could wear this for…” she crosses her arms together at her stomach, eyes averting to somewhere at the corner of the room, “… f-for you.”

Anna is stunned. Dumbfounded. She can’t move, can’t talk. Her trembling body finds the need to channel this feeling elsewhere, and so she digs her fingers into the material of the couch. She clenches it tightly, as hard as her jaws are clenching.

Elsa, with all her courage, makes a move. She steps forward.

And with every step, Anna digs deeper.

Closer.

_Deeper._

_Closer—_

“Anna…”

 _—_ until Elsa is straddling her. Until she can literally feel Elsa’s heat _at her crotch._ Until she can smell the heady scent that is _Elsa_.

“… i-is this okay?” She asks, her whispery voice drilling directly into her eardrums.

Anna attempts to breathe. She wants to answer, oh god, yes. But all that can come out of her is a shaky moan. That, and an aggressive, rough, feral—

“ _… fuck.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> i mean i could easily write a half-assed, 2 paged quickie, but i'm sure you guys prefer a full smutty chapter instead ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	25. Chapter 25

At this point, Anna thinks that her fingernails are going to break sooner than the material of the couch is going to rip. Her muscles are tense, she is _panting,_ and she has to use every ounce of her willpower to hold back.

Because, _god damn,_ she really wants to take Elsa right now.

Lift her up.

Carry her to the bed.

Use her tongue. Her fingers. Taste her. Touch her. Fill her. _Fuck_ her.

But she’s stunned. That, and, well… she knows for a fact that Elsa’s giving it her all. This is her moment. Imagine, turning red just from looking at this piece of outfit. Now, imagine _wearing_ it. How must Elsa feel right now? Hell, Anna can’t fathom it. She can’t even begin to think about what’s going on in Elsa’s head.

And so she remains still. She holds back.

The TV screen being the only source of light, Elsa’s figure stands as a silhouette right in front of it. All her curves, the smoothness, the flawlessness—highlighted. Amplified. A soft, white glow accentuates the blonde. From the frays of her wind-swept strands of white-gold hair to the slope of her shoulders; the slenderness of her waist, all the way down to the length of her legs.

Perfect.

Elsa is ethereal.

A literal _goddess._

“Anna…” Elsa’s voice is sultry; it is low but soft, resounding deep into the space between them. It’s nothing Anna has ever heard before.

 _God,_ Elsa’s doing this on purpose. She has to be. Anna shuts her eyes. She bites _hard_ onto her lip. How she wants to thrust her hips up to meet Elsa’s heat. How her mouth just waters.

And as that happens, the blonde continues to take the initiative. She tugs at the hem of Anna’s t-shirt, pulling at it shyly so as to ask if she can take it off. If it were up to Anna, she’d rip the entire damn thing to pieces, but she knows that it would just scare Elsa. So, no, don’t do that. Instead, Anna sits straight and raises her arms. On cue, Elsa pulls it over her head slowly, hesitantly—like she still lacks the confidence. Like she still doesn’t know what she’s doing.

But she tries.

Because once Anna’s shirt is off, Elsa, perhaps too shy to reveal her face, hides in the crook of Anna’s neck. Her arms come to wrap themselves around the redhead’s torso, and it seems as though Elsa is hugging Anna to reassure herself _._

_So cute._

Anna returns the gesture with a tilt of her head—just a small tilt. She does this simply to breathe into Elsa’s ear.

Then.

Warm. _Wet._

Anna squeaks.

Elsa is using her tongue. She’s trailing butterfly kisses along her neck, up—up to Anna’s jawline and her reaction is voluntary, like she’s possessed, as she tosses her head back. Anna grasps onto the fabric of the couch even more tightly, grunting in frustration. What she gets in return is Elsa’s deliberate attempt to _not_ kiss her on the lips. The blonde is just trailing her mouth along Anna’s neck, jawline, neck, earlobe. Alternating, teasing, _torturing._

“God, _Elsa…”_ A moan escapes her, and she would willingly succumb herself to such an embarrassing sound a thousand times over if she could just get Elsa to _fucking_ kiss her. Anna pries her eyes open, searching in the dark for the blonde—for a pair of warm, blue cerulean eyes, but all she finds are dark lashes, thin brows, creased together in concentration.

Anna bites her lip again.

It makes her heart pound. Elsa is trying so hard. _Ah, fuck._ She’s so cute.

Even as Elsa starts to make her descent, Anna doesn’t release her lip. If she does, she will most definitely scream. Can’t do that. It’ll scare Elsa. _No._ Just watch. Just stay quiet and watch.

Watch as Elsa trails her soft kisses down her breast, pausing at the peak of her bra for a brief peck, where she soon moves lower. By now, Anna’s spread her legs and Elsa’s between them, on the ground, kneeling to give herself better reach of the redhead’s stomach.

 _Oh,_ and better reach she has.

Anna doesn’t… she’s never really paid much attention to her own figure. Save the boobs, that is. But, like, when Elsa kisses her torso like this—when… when she trails her lips down the midline, _licks_ the skin of the faint muscles of her abdomen, dips her tongue into her navel, lingers there, kisses. _Kisses. Sucks._

“El… Elsa _…”_

When Elsa does this, Anna realizes that she likes it. Her own body. Being appreciated. _Worshipped._ Oh, god. Elsa— _Elsa_ likes her body. The thought of it makes her blush. It makes her head spin. She _can’t—_

Another moan.

Anna has to bring her hands up to her mouth. She covers it, praying that she’d stop making these noises. This is as embarrassing for Elsa as it is for herself, she realizes. Her hips are bucking on their own accord, completely out of her control, and _god,_ she’s—her panties. It… it’s so hot. She’s…!

One more kiss. Elsa moves lower, now tugging at Anna’s denim shorts. Those blue eyes that Anna has been searching for—they finally reveal themselves. In the dark, they glow. Gentle, pronounced—much like Elsa herself. And Elsa, as careful as she is, searches for Anna’s gaze. An unspoken connection is formed. They find each other in the dark, and Anna doesn’t need to say anything to let Elsa know that she has every permission, every _right_ to do what she wishes.

But, just for reassurance, Anna nods, smiling behind her hands but knows very well that Elsa can see. That Elsa understands.

The button is removed. Zipper pulled down.

Anna raises her hips, letting Elsa pull her shorts—along with her panties—down to her ankles. It makes her heart leap when Elsa tosses both those pieces unceremoniously somewhere behind herself. It makes _something_ in her core burn when her centre is exposed to Elsa at this proximity. Anna keeps a hand clasped at her mouth, her other hand—her free one, somehow finds its way at the back of Elsa’s head.

One more look.

She takes a deep breath.

Even behind her hand, Anna can smell herself. Her scent is permeating the air; it’s making Elsa’s shoulders rise and fall, rise and fall. Anna’s heartbeat pounds painfully against her ribcage, like it’s trying desperately to break out, to breathe. _God,_ it feels as though every organ in her body is fighting her. Every single organ is malfunctioning, and her brain is short-circuiting and… _and then—_

Delicate hands come to her inner thighs.

Anna squeaks again, this time tensing on full alert. Her eyes dart down, easily meeting Elsa’s, and she understands in an instant that the blonde is asking. _Pleading._

She smiles.

She removes her hand from her mouth, sliding lower in her seat so that her centre would come _this much_ closer to Elsa’s lips.

The blonde, in response, shudders. Her look of apprehension is briefly replaced with one of pure happiness—a soft smile gracing her wonderful features. Though, it quickly disappears as soon as she refocuses.

It’s nerve-wracking. This isn’t exactly Elsa’s first time, y’know, doing _this._ But the thing is, there’s something inexplicable about the lingerie she’s wearing that makes the entire atmosphere different. She doesn’t know how to explain. Like, when Anna looks down, Elsa isn’t just naked and, um… g-getting down on her; Elsa is _sexy,_ clad in something that Anna would never think in a million years that she would actually wear. And the most peculiar thing is that… well, Anna can’t exactly see properly in the dark. Nor can she properly appreciate this outfit on her, but _boy_ is she glad that the very image of Elsa in the lingerie is burned into her mind.

So at each stroke of Elsa’s tongue, at every hot, singeing touch of that wet appendage, Anna—despite having her eyes shut tightly—sees flashes of Elsa. Images of Elsa in that very outfit. Between her legs. Buried in her heat.

She adapts to Elsa’s steady rhythm, raising her hips at every thrust. The muscles in her stomach ripples at her movements, and she finds it increasingly difficult and unnecessary to keep her voice down. The sounds, ever so sensual and uneven, drives Elsa on. Every higher pitch earns herself a deeper thrust, followed by a careful, soft kiss upon the apex of her folds. Then, that delicate tongue would come back to wriggle inside, teasing that _one spot_ that makes her choke out Elsa’s name. But in the midst of her ecstasy, Anna knows that she is pulling a bit too hard on Elsa’s hair, yet the girl doesn’t show signs of discomfort.

Elsa just soldiers on. As if she isn’t affected.

Anna wants to ask. Doesn’t it hurt? _I’m so sorry._ Are you okay? _I would never hurt you._ Why do you do so much for me? _I love you._

God, the more Anna looks at this girl, the more she is in love with her. She… _oh,_ Anna loves her so much.

“Elsa…” Anna barely whispers.

But her voice is too soft. Elsa doesn’t hear. The blonde’s head sinks lower between her legs. It bobs, and Anna finds it weird that she can both feel and see the rhythm, now that she’s looking. It brings her so much closer to the edge—faster, _more—_ until both her hands are gripping onto Elsa’s head. She can’t help it. She guides Elsa, setting a pace. Faster. She needs it _faster._

“I’m…”

Elsa moves faster, her tongue flicking at her engorged bud. Again. Again. _Again—_

“Els… oh—” she arches her back, mouth hanging open, “— _god!”_

 _—_ then Elsa wraps her lips around it and _sucks._

“ELSA!” Frantic, her body is taut. The pounding in her chest reaches her head; it radiates all over her, and she feels herself pulsing. Anna sees stars. Flashes, fireworks. It’s dark, but it’s what she sees. Waves upon waves crash over her and she struggles to catch her breath. She straight up forgets how to breathe.

Holy shit.

Are her lungs still functioning? Is she permanently blinded? What is this ringing noise she hears? Why is this warmth travelling up her abdomen… to her chest, neck, and… and—

“Mmn…”

—and she tastes it. She tastes herself. A familiar tanginess that has been enveloping her senses since the second she saw Elsa in that outfit.

 _That_ outfit.

Oh, man. The moment Anna opens her eyes again, she’ll see it. S-she needs a moment. It’s too much. She doesn’t think she can go through her orgasm _and_ look at Elsa in the outfit at the same time.

She needs a distraction. The kiss. _Yes._ Make the kiss last longer.

Anna tilts her head, pushing her tongue into Elsa’s mouth. It’s messy, inelegant, desperate. The sounds of their breathing mixes with the lasting, ringing noise that’s still echoing in Anna’s ears, but she pays no mind to it. All she knows is that Elsa’s straddling her again and there is an undying need to hold her close. Closer than ever. So she does. Anna runs her hands along Elsa’s thighs. The smooth fabric of the pantyhose that she touches sends her flashes of Elsa’s look.

Too much. A fuse burns in her— _between her legs_ —and Anna jolts.

_Quick. Move higher!_

Yes. Do it. In the most miraculous manner, her trembling hands obey her will and glide upwards. Where… where she then touches the straps to the garter belt.

_Oh, no._

J-just move higher!

To Elsa’s waist, and that’s… _fucking hell,_ that’s where the actual garter belt is! Anna can feel its lace patterns and that image of Elsa she is trying so hard to bury becomes increasingly clearer.

This is bad.

She—she’s losing it. _Oh, god, she’s gonna…_

“Elsa.”

The blonde draws back. Always so gentle, her hands come to frame Anna’s face, fingers daintily caressing her skin. Their foreheads touch. The tips of their nose nuzzling.

Anna’s head _pounds._

“Yes?” Elsa whispers, her hot breath fanning at Anna’s lips.

She clenches. Bares her teeth. She is panting at this point, quiet huffs filling the air.

The moment she snaps her eyes open—the very _second_ those teal eyes of hers find Elsa’s blue ones, the blonde gasps.

“A-Anna!”

Anna wasn’t joking when she said that she could lift Elsa up if she wanted to. This girl is like… forty-five kilograms? Forty-seven? Whatever— _the point is._ If Anna hadn’t seen Elsa naked, she would think that the girl is severely underfed. But, no, thank god. Elsa eats healthily, exercises regularly. She’s fine. She’s… yeah. She is _fine._ But, um, what is she getting at here?

Oh. Right.

Elsa weighs like nothing, and therefore Anna can easily lift her up and take her to the bed. Once at the edge, Anna doesn’t lay her down gently as she usually does. _No._ She tosses her on it. Doesn’t stop to let Elsa react. Anna grabs both her wrists and pins her down. Her loose red hair cascades over her shoulders, falling on the blonde’s immaculate skin.

And Elsa, wide-eyed and vulnerable, lies there, helpless. Scared. Alert. There is no doubt that Anna’s actions just now have put her in a state of shock, because Anna herself is surprised. Never has she behaved this way. Her desire to ravage Elsa has always been held back by the more rational side of her; she’s always been able to restrain herself because she knows that she isn’t like this.

But who is she kidding?

Anna’s eyes start to wander. Elsa’s round, doe eyes. Half-opened mouth. Perfect jawline, perfect bone structure. Protruding collarbone, full, soft breasts, covered by that laced bra. Her chest, rising and falling, in sync with her uneven panting. Lower, there’s that wonderful curve of her waist and the garter belt wrapped around it. The thin, nearly transparent panties. And those legs, clad in a pair of dark pantyhose with straps that somehow _so_ magically make everything appear a hundredfold sexier. _Fuck,_ Elsa’s legs are so beautiful.

Jeez, she is being so vulgar right now.

“Anna… s-stop…”

Her eyes move back up to see Elsa averting her gaze. Even in the darkness, Anna knows that the poor girl is probably beet red.

“Don’t…” Elsa’s voice is small.

Anna tilts her head. “Hm?”

She tries. Elsa tries to go on, but every attempt just makes her _that_ much cuter. Every attempt pushes Anna _that_ much closer to the brink of insanity.

“… don’t look at me like that…”

 _Fucking hell—_ see?!

That’s the last straw.

Literally. Anna can’t. She’s… no. _She can’t._

Goodbye for now, innocence.

Because in that moment, her world flips one-eighty degrees, and a corner of her lips arches up. Anna _smirks._

Elsa, in response, hitches a breath.

How, oh, how does she appear so small? Perhaps it’s because she’s trying to cross her arms to cover herself but can’t? Anna lets go of her wrists, and lo and behold—Elsa’s gone on to cover herself, indeed crossing her arms at her chest.

Silly girl.

Does she know that she’s pressing her breasts together? Does she know that she’s making them appear even fuller than they already are? God, she’s so hot, and Anna can’t help it anymore.

She leans in, mouth right next to Elsa’s ear. Anna breathes.

A tremor, one that even Anna can feel, overtakes Elsa. Though temporary, it’s enough to tell Anna how much of an impression she is able to make just by _breathing._

What follows is a chuckle. Anna pecks the girl’s cheek to comfort her, if only a little. Because what she is about to say next may be too much. Elsa may not be able to handle it, but screw it _,_ Anna will try.

“Elsa,” she whispers, voice mellow and soft and exuding _sex._ “… I’m going to _fuck_ you now.”

Elsa inhales again, this time hugging herself even more. But this time, she searches for Anna’s eyes. Half-lidded cerulean orbs in the dark gleaming with a hint of anticipation.

Her smirk widens. She’s figured as much. Elsa may be shy, but she is no stranger to dirty talk. That time at the gelato place with Honeymaren? When Anna said something similar? Didn’t Elsa react even more enthusiastically? The difference is that this time, Elsa is helpless, completely at Anna’s mercy. This time, Anna is being explicit with her language, which she never does out loud; she thinks it all the time, yes, but never does she say it directly to Elsa.

This innocent, perfect, pure girl.

“… And I—” Anna continues, her voice husky, “—am going to make you _feel so good_.”

Elsa just _moans._

Which prompts Anna to pounce. She comes in to recapture those lips, and as shy as Elsa may appear, there has never been a time that she would reject a kiss. No, Elsa never rejects her. All Elsa does it spoil her. Anna is eternally grateful for that, don’t get her wrong, but she wants to return the favour. Give Elsa what she deserves. Love her. _Pleasure_ her.

So Anna acts. As they kiss, as their tongues battle inside, _outside,_ as their breaths and huffs echo in the room, Anna’s hands move south. She is not interested in stripping Elsa. _Uh-uh,_ no way. Because if Elsa takes this thing off, Anna will lose this persona. By god, she doesn’t want to let this moment go yet. And the only thing that’s driving her on right now is, to Anna’s knowledge, the lingerie. So, _please,_ Elsa, _don’t take it off._ It gives Anna the will to go on. To keep on going down. Down to those panties. Elsa came prepared, wearing them _over_ the garter belt and straps for easy removal. Or, well, maybe it’s just easier to pee that way?

Anyway, whatever. This works in her favour. So.

She takes it off. Lets it slip down Elsa’s long legs until they hang at her ankle, and _wow._ Even up here, Anna can smell her. Her scent is distinct, intoxicating, sweet. Everything that is Anna but more. No, that opinion just now is subjective. Elsa would probably disagree with her, but, uh. Yeah. Anna has no idea. Maybe she’s about the same—but, _you know what?_ Who cares.

Because as of now, as Anna sits between Elsa’s legs, taking in the full view of her beautiful, glistening pink centre, Anna doesn’t care about anything else. She grabs Elsa’s bent knees, spreading her wider apart as that smirk of hers remains. It brings her so much pleasure that every bit of action she does makes Elsa jolt ever so slightly. Almost as though the girl is put under a spell. As though Anna is the spellcaster, wielding the power to invoke every sensation she wishes upon her.

Oh, and she will do just that.

Anna won’t remove any piece of the lingerie—that much is known. But what she will do is allow herself the luxury to see _more._ She slides the straps of the bra off Elsa’s shoulder, massaging the girl a little and then she glides her hands down to the cups, yanking them down so that the blonde’s breasts are on full display. The dim lights coming from the TV create an oddly fitting atmosphere, in that the low, silvery glow forms shadows that help define Elsa’s figure. From the swell of those perfect breasts to the peaks of her nipples, Anna sees it all. She _tastes_ it all, as the last bit of inhibition is abandoned when she leans in to flick a bud with her tongue.

“ _Anna!”_

Elsa is so wound up, the slightest touch makes her yelp. Makes her body tense. Makes her arch her back for more. She tries to grab Anna’s head, to guide her, tell her what she wants— _where_ she wants it, but no. Elsa’s had her turn. This is _Anna’s_ moment.

Her hands come back to grab Elsa’s wrists, pinning them on either side of her head.

“Stay still,” Anna warns.

Elsa mewls.

And then Anna bites. _Hard._

The blonde throws her head back, a silent scream bubbling in her throat, but she stops herself; she turns, hiding her face in the pillow.

Anna sucks on it once more for good measure, and then she moves down, stopping to leave another bite on the curve of a breast.

Elsa shrieks. Her hands, though pinned down, have the freedom to grab onto the sheets of the bed.

 _So hot._ Anna moves again, kissing her way lower until she reaches Elsa’s abdomen. The bump of the girl’s ribcage catches her attention, where she stops once more to leave another bite.

“A-Anna…!”

Her cries are largely ignored, and by now, Anna has slid down to her legs.

“Keep your hands here.” She instructs just before moving lower. Anna doesn’t wait for Elsa to answer her, and she’s already sinking her teeth into the girl’s inner thigh—which, coincidentally, is the only bit of skin exposed down here. That, and Elsa’s _dripping_ centre, but… wait. _C-can she?_ No, that’s probably too much.

_Ohhh, but she’s so tempted!_

One more bite. Anna leaves Elsa one more bite on the same thigh before coming in to lap her opening without warning. Elsa’s aroma fills her senses momentarily and Anna is _alive_. She does it again, slipping her tongue into Elsa’s centre, but she doesn’t linger. Because right now, she’s itching to bite. Itching to hear Elsa let out another surprised, helpless sound. Which is why she retracts, so that her teeth may find Elsa’s clit, where she applies the _slightest_ pressure—

 _“_ Ahnn _—AHH!”_

She’s quite certain that was an attempt to say her name, but.

Elsa’s shaking unstoppably. Her hands, so obediently still on the sides of her head, are grabbing onto the sheets of the bed with so much force Anna hopes that the fabric won’t tear. She pulls away, giving herself a view of her work.

Beautiful.

Deep, reddened rings of a dozen bitemarks scattered all over Elsa’s white skin. Neck, breasts, stomach, thighs. She’s marred the girl’s body so much, she should be feeling bad, but like. The thing is, she doesn’t. Anna is tempted—she’s invigorated to _do more._ But Elsa’s well-being precedes everything else.

So after what seems like an eternity, when Elsa’s trembling subsides, Anna acts right away. She crawls up, lying on top of the blonde.

“Elsa,” Anna speaks into her ear. “Elsa.”

To which Elsa responds with a whimper. Like a frightened little bunny. She turns to hide in Anna’s neck, her arms come to wrap themselves around the redhead’s torso. Her strength is mild, practiced. Almost as though she’s holding herself back.

It seriously is the cutest thing ever, because even in distress, Elsa still clings onto the concept of control. But how Anna wishes the girl would let loose for a bit. “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Probably still trying to compose herself. But at last, Elsa nods. A single bob of the head.

“Do you need a break?” Anna asks.

Elsa breathes out in what sounds like contentment. Since they’re hugging each other so tightly, Anna can’t see, but she can hear the smile from Elsa as she speaks. “No, I… I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

Another nod.

Anna offers a smile of her own. She turns to kiss Elsa on the lips, and as she does that, she runs a hand down. It mounts the peak of Elsa’s breast, slides down its curve, follows the faint midline to the navel, past the thin patch of hair, and it finds its place at Elsa’s hot centre, still dripping with anticipation.

She wastes no time.

Two fingers—ring and middle— _plunge_ in. With no warning, with all her force.

So much that Elsa has to break away from the kiss to let out a cry.

But Anna doesn’t let her go. She claims those lips, crushing against them, leaving Elsa to moan into her mouth as those fingers move and move and _move._ She is relentless, but only because Elsa’s walls are so slick and inviting. Anna is driven to continue, _don’t stop,_ only because Elsa _sucks_ her in with something that Anna can only describe as desire. A desire to go _deeper._ It is the only reason that Anna is increasing her speed, each thrust ending at her last knuckle. Faster. _Deeper._ To the point that she feels a cramp in her wrist.

To the point that Elsa’s moans become screams _._

_Anna, Anna, Anna._

She cries out her name, again and again. It makes her feel important. Cherished. _Loved._ Like she’s put on a pedestal and is praised as a deity—once again, _worshipped._ Only Elsa can give her such an intense feeling. Only Elsa. Only Elsa can turn her world upside down.

_Ah, shit._

Anna is losing it again.

She hides in Elsa’s neck, feeling the words come to her throat. “The things you do to me…” she mutters.

Elsa’s cries drown out her words.

But she goes on, pressing her lips next to the blonde’s ear. She wants Elsa to listen. Listen to her. “Does it feel good?” A broken cry resounds in the room. Its meaning unclear, Anna tries again. Thrusts again. “Elsa.” _Thrust._ “Tell me. Does it feel good?”

Her speed increases. The wetness builds. Elsa’s muscles grip tightly around her fingers and Anna can’t get enough.

“Hnn— _Anna,_ I… I’m— _”_

Elsa’s arms are holding her desperately for some semblance of control, eyes clenched shut in pleasure, her expression twisting in a state of euphoria and it—it’s pure _sex._

“Do I make you feel good?” She presses her thumb onto that swollen bud.

“Ohh— _yes!”_ Elsa bucks her hips, back arching to Anna’s thumb once more. “A-Anna…! _Yes…!”_ ”

“Yeah?” And that thumb, working so meticulously on Elsa’s clit, circles along it persistently. _Hard._ Anna presses down—

 _“_ Nnn _—ohh!”_ Elsa’s body is bent like a bow. Her head is thrown back completely, and her arms, no longer wrapped around Anna, are desperately searching for something to hold onto. One hand still manages to pull at Anna’s hair, the other clasped against her own mouth.

She does all of this as Anna watches, admiration filling every bit of her mind.

“ _Fuck…”_ Incredible. Absolutely unreal. Anna moans at the sight. She captures that same nipple she bit onto earlier, but this time she sucks. The need to push Elsa over the edge in the most satisfying fashion is all that she wishes for. An arm snakes around Elsa’s waist to hold her still, to support her as her other hand keeps moving, eager to thrust in deeper.

_Reach deeper._

_More._

Anna wants to reach deeper. Fill her. _More._ She’s being greedy, but _fucking hell,_ she doesn’t want this to end. She’s never been so enraptured by lust— _Elsa’s_ never shown such a side.

Anna doesn’t want this to end.

Not yet.

What can she do? She glances around, searching the room for something. What can she be searching for? Her eyes drift to the bottle of wine left on the coffee table, forgotten. They move to the television, still stuck on the Netflix homepage. Anna shifts her attention to the pile of presents on the table.

Presents.

“ _Anna!”_

She continues to thrust. Anna’s pace is uneven, and she has left Elsa on a plateau, holding her down so she can’t soar, trapping her so that she can’t come down. She is _stuck,_ and while Anna can think of a million ways to bring Elsa to a new height, the only thing that comes to mind is—

Elsa gasps. Her eyes snap open and she falls back onto the bed. Chest heaving, she is evidently overwhelmed with loss, confusion, and, most of all, disappointment. Anna has stopped with her ministrations, literally leaving her hanging, and she has no idea why.

“Anna…?” Comes Elsa’s breathless whimper. “W-why did… why did you stop?”

She considers continuing. Bring Elsa to her orgasm. Comfort her afterwards. Kiss her until she falls asleep. Hold her through the night.

But…

“Anna, what’s the matter?”

Anna turns to Elsa. Blank face. Expressionless.

Elsa is more so concerned than anything, really. Though her limbs are weary, she sits up. She brings her hands to Anna’s face, holding her with a gentle strength. “Is everything okay?”

Anna blinks, not realizing that she’s made Elsa worry. But then she quickly reverts to a smile. She takes hold of Elsa’s wrists, lightly this time, and kisses those palms before letting them come back in to cup her cheeks. “Yes,” her says. “Everything’s okay.”

But it’s clear Elsa doesn’t believe her, because that look of worry is still there. The way she looks at Anna with so much care, it truly is a privilege.

So, what right does Anna have to lie to her?

“It’s just…”

Elsa scoots closer, listening intently.

Oh, no. S-she didn’t know that she was going to have to say it!

“Yes?”

“I, um…” Anna swallows. How should she put this? She glances over to the table once more, where all the presents are. Well, her attention is on _one_ present in particular.

“A-am I doing something wrong?”

Anna damn well near snaps her neck as she turns back to her. “What? No!” she exclaims. “Why do you always think that you’ve done something wrong?”

Elsa shirks. There mere volume of Anna’s voice is enough to scare her a little.

Which, of course, breaks Anna’s heart. It doesn’t take her a second to come in for a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” she holds her tight. Their bodies are flushed, and Anna doesn’t know how to come any closer than they already are. “It’s not you, Elsa. You didn’t do anything. You’re perfect.”

“Then…”

“I just…” Yeah, she’s going to have to come clean. I-it’s just a question, right? They’re both adults now, technically, and sex isn’t a foreign topic to either one of them. So, like, it’s not going to kill anyone. If Elsa doesn’t want to, they can just drop the subject. Yes. Pretend Anna’s never asked. No big deal. _Alright. Okay._

“Anna?”

She chews on her bottom lip before pulling back. Anna’s quite aware that her cheeks are flushed, so thank god the lights aren’t on. “You know how, erm. The, uh, presents that my friends got me?”

Elsa nods.

Okay. _Okay._ It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. Anna pushes on. “And you know how… Hans’ present is… uh…”

At that, Elsa’s eyes widen. Immediately, she looks away, too embarrassed to look Anna in the eye.

Oh. Well, there’s her answer. It doesn’t matter—she would only want what Elsa wants. “No—I… forget I asked. It’s nothing, let’s just—”

“D-do you…” Elsa’s soft voice interrupts her, but she’s still not looking up. “… want to use it?”

_What?_

Slowly, Elsa turns back to steal shy glances at the redhead. “If you want, w-we…” she pauses, tugging at her lip. “We can try.”

 _Oh, dear lord._ Elsa’s an angel. A saint. This world doesn’t deserve her. _Anna_ doesn’t deserve her.

But just as she wants to berate herself for being unworthy, Elsa’s hands come up to touch Anna’s face once again. She brushes a few strands behind her ear, blue eyes gleaming with an unsurmountable love when she smiles beautifully to say, “I’ll do anything that you want, Anna.”

God. Just… _wow._

Anna wants to cry. She doesn’t know how else to convey her emotions than to kiss the girl. So she does. She does it with so much force that Elsa’s fallen onto her back. Anna presses kisses upon her face, again and again—lips, cheeks, nose, eyebrow. She keeps on doing this until Elsa giggles, until she knows for a fact that this moment is a shared one—that she isn’t forcing her. But Anna doesn’t want to be selfish; even so, she will ask. She pecks Elsa’s eyelid, trailing small, brief kisses back down to those luscious pink lips, and then she asks, “Are you sure?”

Elsa dips her head.

She smiles. Kisses Elsa again. Anna pours everything into the kiss. Her love, passion, desires. She doesn’t know how else to let Elsa know—just how important she is to her.

“I’ll be right back.” Anna says.

Once off the bed, she becomes hyperaware of the fact that she’s not wearing anything but a bra. Although it is officially summertime, the air conditioning in the room renders everything cold. Or—maybe it’s because she’s been wrapped in Elsa’s warmth all this time and that being away from it all of a sudden has made the temperature drop? Yeah, _no._ Who cares about logic. Anna easily picks out Hans’ present from the bunch, removing the lid to find that same, neon pink… _thing._

(It’ll take her a while to acknowledge the word _dildo,_ so please, give her a minute.)

She pours out the contents of the box onto the table. There’s the _thing_ , there’s some kind of… a switch? There are these intimidating straps that Anna’s quite sure is the harness, some wires, and then there’s a manual. Seriously, a _manual._ What is this, a video game? Anyway. The last thing that rolls out of the box is a bottle that straight-up says _sex-toy cleaner._

Oh, right. That part’s majorly important. Gotta keep it sanitary down there and all.

Anna uncaps the bottle and sprays the clear liquid all over the _thing_ ; she may be overdoing it, but better safe than sorry, right? Next, she runs to the bathroom, switches on the lights and starts wiping it down with a clean towel. After inspecting that it has no defects, that it is indeed okay to use (by her inexperienced standards, anyway), she takes a deep breath. Anna looks at herself in the mirror.

Here she is, red hair in slight disarray, clad in a black bra, bottom bare, with a neon pink _thing_ in hand. Yes. Great. She looks _hella_ ready, albeit silly. Honestly, if Elsa weren’t outside, waiting for her in bed in that _sex goddess outfit,_ Anna would definitely take her time to practice. Practice looking good with this. Practice her technique. Just. _Practice._ But reality has it that Elsa _is_ outside. She _is_ waiting, and Anna has no time to waste. She heads out, flipping the light switch off and grabs the harness on the table.

Elsa’s sitting there, hugging her knees. Just… awkwardly waiting.

When Anna returns, she averts her gaze—refusing with all her might to make eye contact.

Because, as they both know, t-this… this is madness. To be using a toy for their escapades is… it’s unheard of.

Anna has never considered it. Not once. Which means neither has Elsa.

_Freaking Hans._

“So, um…” Anna starts, looking down between the _thing_ in one hand and the harness in another. “I guess I will, uh…” For whatever reason, she decides to look to Elsa for advice.

… who, of course, just hugs her knees even closer.

Genius _._ Absolutely. Freaking _genius._ That obviously would just scare Elsa even more! What the hell was she thinking! _Ugh!_ Anna huffs. She purses her lips in concentration as she studies the harness. From what she can make out, it kind of resembles… an underwear? Is she supposed to just slip it on like one? There’s this part that seems like it’s where the _thing_ should be. It’s a pocket with a hole and all. So… that would mean this is the front, right? Okay. _Whatever._ This is taking way too long—it’s killing the mood! The last thing she’d want is for Elsa to change her mind.

Then again… if Elsa does change her mind, Anna would never force her to go through with it.

In any case. The harness. Just. Wear it. Like. An. _Underwear!_

In one motion, Anna slips it on, tightening the straps at the sides. The thing is strangely convenient. It has these adjustable buckles and stuff. It’s almost like Hans didn’t just walk in to grab the thing at random; he probably did some research. But what made him think that it’s okay to get her neon pink of all colours?! She doesn’t even like pink! Green and blue are her favourite colours. Green because it reminds her of summer, and blue because… well, that one’s obvious. It’s not like he’d know, though. Wait, where was she going with this? Oh. Yes.

It’s nice of him to be so thoughtful, but now isn’t the time to think of such trivial things. Stop derailing and _focus, Anna!_

She takes the dil— _thing_ and slips it through the pocket-hole-thing and finds it amazing that it actually holds up. Really. The _thing_ is kind of heavy. Weighty. Probably because it isn’t hollow and is silicone? That’s what it is, right?

Yes. Alright.

She’s set. Anna has no idea how much of a toll it has taken on her until she realizes that there’s sweat running down her forehead. And she hasn’t even gotten to the main point yet!

Speaking of main point.

Anna steals a glance at Elsa.

Poor girl looks terrified. Cheeks tainted crimson—and that’s saying something because there is no light. For Anna to be able to pick that out means that Elsa really, _really_ is red. Observing a little while longer, Anna can tell that she’s even trembling a little. _Oh, man._

What can she do than to hug her?

So she does.

Anna comes in to wrap her arms around the blonde, pulling her in close and Elsa reciprocates without question. She sighs happily, and that trembling comes to an instant halt. Like the hug is the cure to all things negative.

Likewise, it makes Anna feel the same. Elsa’s hugs always remind her of how fortunate she is to have this girl in her life. How, in spite of everything, Elsa loves her and _her_ only. It’s just weird, okay? How the universe works that way. She thinks about it all the time, and she will never say it out loud anymore, but it’s still a lingering thought. Elsa can have anyone— _literally anyone—_ in the world, but she chose her. If there is a higher being somewhere out there, spinning the wheel of fate, then, when Anna dies, she truly wants to thank them for bestowing her such a privileged opportunity.

God, she… she’s so lucky. So lucky to be loved. So lucky to be able to love her back. So lucky—

“I love you,” Anna hears herself say.

A small gasp escapes Elsa. It makes her hug Anna a little closer.

Gently, so as to not disturb the world, Anna shifts her weight forward, guiding Elsa down on her back. The bed creaks, the mattress sinks, Elsa’s arms around her are firm.

Anna kisses the crook of her neck and trails her lips up to Elsa’s ear. “I love you,” she says again, pulling back just slightly so that their foreheads are touching. “I wouldn’t have anyone else in the world but you.”

There is a hint of a sparkle in Elsa’s eyes. Tears, maybe?

_Yeah._

They roll down Elsa’s cheeks, glistening in their trail. Elsa looks at her like she’s the best thing that has ever happened to her, and Anna knows for a fact that this is not an exaggeration.

It’s the truth.

She smiles.

And Elsa is the best thing that has happened to _her._

Her lips find those tears. Anna kisses them away, all the way up to Elsa’s eyes. Throughout this, she hears the girl’s whimpers. Sobs. She feels Elsa trembling in her arms—not out of nervousness like earlier, but Anna knows now it is of happiness.

She is so grateful.

So, when she kisses Elsa on the lips, fully, completely, she does it slow. Anna can’t give Elsa much—not anything material anyway, but she will try. _Oh,_ she will do everything in her power to try.

When the time is right, they will walk hand-in-hand to meet Elsa’s grandfather.

When the time is right, he will accept her.

When the time is right, Anna will not only be Elsa’s present; she will be her future—be everything Elsa needs.

But for now—

“Anna…” Elsa calls her name in a shaky whisper. It is then her legs spread; her arms come to slip around Anna’s torso.

—for now, Anna has seized the present. Nothing in the world matters but them. Nothing but what they have, right at this moment.

Anna positions it at Elsa’s opening. She guides it, runs its length up and down her core to coat it with the remainder of Elsa’s wetness. Anna does this continuously, keeping her pace steady, until she deems it ready. Until Elsa’s laboured breathing hitches.

One final look. Anna bumps her forehead against Elsa’s again. “Ready?”

Elsa nods. Eagerly so.

A smile and a peck on the lips later, Anna pushes. Just the head. Only the head enters.

But it is most fascinating—the way Elsa shuts her eyes in distress, which soon contorts to pleasure. Her mouth hangs open, caught between letting out a cry and the call of Anna’s name.

Deeper.

Elsa throws her head back. A pronounced gasp escapes her. The hands gripping Anna’s back clasp on so desperately, her blunt nails dig into the redhead’s back.

Deeper. Halfway.

Those nails _claw_ down in the slightest, and Anna knows that she’s scarred. Perhaps she’s bleeding, but she doesn’t care about her own pain—no. She only cares about Elsa’s. She stops, pausing to give her full attention to the blonde. “Elsa,” she calls to her. “Elsa, are you okay?”

No words. Elsa just bobs her head, those nails still clawing at Anna’s back.

She has learned that Elsa doesn’t do well with pain. Not one bit. She is deathly scared of it, which is why Anna will stop. She’d never—

“ _Don’t stop.”_

… what?

“Please, Anna.” Elsa gasps. “Don’t stop.”

She struggles to breathe. “But… I’m hurting you.”

Elsa shakes her head. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Elsa—”

“I-I’m getting used to it,” she chokes. “I just need… need a moment.”

Anna sighs. Her heart aches. It feels heavy. To make Elsa take this all because Anna wanted to try, it’s so selfish, so immature, so—

“I want to do everything with you.”

She jolts.

Elsa’s legs wrap around Anna’s waist. She locks them at her ankles. “Everything possible. As long as it makes you happy. Brings us closer. I want to try it all.”

…

_Oh, god._

When Anna exhales, her throat hurts. Her nose feels a bit sour, and her cheeks hurt a bit. Probably because she’s smiling too widely. Probably.

“I love you, too, Anna.” Elsa whispers.

She means to laugh. Anna has every intention to express her happiness, but what comes out instead is a sob. This time, Elsa is the one to kiss her tears away. She brings her hands to cup Anna’s cheeks, her thumbs coming in to catch the new droplets that flow down. Funny how their roles are constantly reversing.

Their silly giggling is all that can be heard, and this moment will forever be something that they hold dear.

The warmth between them radiates brighter, _hotter._ Anna takes Elsa’s hands. She slips her fingers between the cracks, holding each of them by Elsa’s head. Then, she moves.

This time, Elsa cries out.

Buried to the hilt, Anna waits. She waits for Elsa to adjust, because, _god,_ she is so tight. And as she waits, she kisses her. On the lips, continuously, suckling at the lower one, tugging gently at the skin. Elsa’s lower body trembles; her legs wrapped around Anna’s waist quiver, and all Anna can do is kiss her, whisper words of comfort to her, and wait.

_“You’re okay.”_

_“I’m here, Elsa.”_

_“You’re so beautiful.”_

Words that Elsa told her on their first night, on Valentine’s Day. Words that Anna herself had always wanted to tell Elsa. She will let her know now. All of it.

Anna pulls back, then, a bit more smoothly this time, she pushes forward.

Elsa moans. Every time she throws her head back like this, Anna has the undying urge to sink her teeth in Elsa’s neck. In turn, the bruise on the blonde’s neck has become a dangerous, deep crimson.

Her speed increases. Anna is no longer waiting at the end for each thrust; she has gone on to find a rhythm, rocking her hips steadily as that tension in Elsa no longer seems to be apparent. Right now, it’s smooth—her movements, swift. For every thrust, Elsa lets out a broken cry. Everything is beautifully in sync. Anna herself pants along, holding onto Elsa’s hands to keep herself grounded. _Hell,_ if she lets go right now, she thinks she’s going to be transcended to another dimension. Elsa’s voice— _ah… fuck._

The blonde, just as enraptured by everything, sees no end to her moans. Those sensual, high-pitched cries—sounds she has never made. Too shy to have even attempted. Sounds that would likely send her to a spiral of embarrassment if she ever heard them while sober from this insatiable lust and desire.

Said lust and desire, overflowing with passion, possesses Elsa. Her hips, taking a life of their own, start to roll—responding to Anna’s thrusts.

Thrust forward—Elsa rolls forward.

Anna pulls back—Elsa rolls back.

They meet at each thrust. Their cries and moans, slapping of skin, the slamming of the headboard, all coming together in one, perfect synchronization.

But as much as they want to remain lost in their throes of passion, to be separated from the boundaries of reality, they know that all good things must come to an end.

Anna, with her hips moving with a speed and force that she isn’t accustomed to, finds the need to catch her breath. Yet, she doesn’t want to stop. Hell, she is _so_ tired. Her body is sore, sweat runs down her forehead and her body, and every part of her screams for her to _stop—just for a bit._

_No. God… no._

She pulls back, kneeling to find a new angle—which she does. Anna grabs Elsa’s thighs, spreading them even more as she continues to move.

 _Ohh…_ and does she _move._

Right now, in their position, Anna sees. Elsa’s laced bra, as silly as it looks, is haphazardly hanging below her breasts. Round, full, beautiful breasts, bouncing, _jiggling_ at each thrust.

“Shit.” Anna curses. Something in her brain sparks. She leans forward, reaching to cup one in her hand, and then her fingers find its peak, where she pinches. _Twists._

 _“Ahnn…!”_ Elsa arches her back. Her own hand comes to place over Anna’s—like she wants to guide her. Like she doesn’t want her to stop. “Anna. Anna, _I w-want…”_

“Yeah?” She pants, thrusting even harder now. Elsa’s nearing her end—she can tell. It’s getting harder to move as Elsa’s movements are getting messy. “What d-do you… need?” her words barely make it out. Anna herself is losing it.

Elsa grips firmly onto her hand at her breast. “I-I need…!” With as much concentration as she can muster, she tries to finish her sentence— “… _to come…!_ Anna, _please!”_

_Shit. Oh shit oh shit._

What… what the hell can she do?! She’s already moving as fast as she can! Her head spins. Jeez, her _eyes_ are spinning as well! A whirlwind of emotions. Anna searches—around the room. Something. Anything!

_“Anna!”_

_Oh my god!_ T-this is probably the most vocal and, arguably, vulgar Elsa’s ever been. And it’s _freaking Anna out!_

“W-wait, I’m… I, uh—!” she looks down, putting all her attention into her thrusts.

… then, she sees.

The hood of Elsa’s folds. The little bud, slick and wet, sticking out, crying for attention.

Anna doesn’t hesitate. Her other hand, holding onto Elsa’s thigh moments prior, move to the girl’s centre. With her thumb, she _presses—_

_“ANNA!”_

Jesus. _Wow._ Anna bites hard at her teeth.

The tremor that runs through Elsa is so strong, Anna can feel it. Literally. From the blonde’s lower body, her muscles grip onto the toy (Anna can no longer move); Elsa’s legs spasm uncontrollably—they remain spread, struggling to close, to move. Like the orgasm before, Elsa’s back is bent, caught in tight arch. And the scream.

 _Holy shit,_ the scream.

She prays that the building has proper soundproof walls. Because… _wow._

As Elsa’s orgasm eases, as her body sinks lower, Anna takes the opportunity to pull out. Slowly, of course; she knows that the slightest movement now would bring more than pain. She removes the silly thing and throws it on the ground, coming back in quickly to hold Elsa.

A hug. It’s what she needs right now.

Poor girl is still going through it. Is Anna wrong to think that Elsa looks especially beautiful when she’s coming? She may have mentioned it before, and it’s probably kind of a sick thing to say, but… _yeah._

She should just stop.

As the thoughts go on, as her mind continues rambling, Anna just watches. Elsa’s chest heaving. Body shaking a little. Mouth opening and closing at each breath. The thin layer of sweat gleaming over her skin. Everything highlighted by the small light source of the TV. 

Suddenly, Elsa breathes in. A sharp, sharp inhale.

“Elsa?” Anna raises her head, genuinely concerned. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Elsa, too, raises her head. She looks like she’s at a loss for a moment, until she turns to the nightstand. At the clock. Anna follows her gaze. _23:52._ What… why is she so concerned with the time?

“Hey…” she says.

“It…” Elsa stutters, obviously having difficulty speaking, “… A-Anna…”

“I’m here.” Anna wraps her arms around the girl protectively. “Right here. What do you need?”

Elsa shakes her head. “T-there… there’s still time…” she fights the hug. Elsa tries to push herself up, but her weary limbs prevent her from doing so and, as a result, she falls back onto the bed, into Anna’s arms.

“What is it? I’ll get it for you.”

“No…” She whines. “S-still… birthday…”

“Hm?”

“… a cake…”

“Wha… Elsa, we already had one at the party—”

“I… made one for you…”

Her heart skips a beat.

“It’s in the… t-the fridge…” Elsa’s eyes are droopy. She—oh, she’s done. Batteries are at zero percent. In the middle of passing out.

Anna chuckles. “When did you find the time to do it?”

She takes a moment to reply, as though she is taking a moment to nap. Just for a second, though. “… skipped class…”

“Hey.” Anna scolds, putting on her angry face. “While I am extremely touched by that, you should never skip class, you hear me?”

“Mmn… y-you skipped on my birthday… as well…”

“Elsa.”

Who, then, nuzzles in Anna’s chest.

Too cute. Anna can’t stay mad. She plants a kiss on Elsa’s forehead.

Then, with one final ounce of energy, Elsa jolts awake. “Anna…”

“Yes?”

She sighs. “… Happy birthday.”

The smile that spreads across her cheeks goes all the way up to her eyes. “Thank you, Elsa.” Anna has no other way to respond than to hug her. The next kiss is on the crown of Elsa’s head, followed by a quiet, “I love you.”

Elsa’s response is a soft, gentle, “… _love you, too,”_ accompanied by an equally soft and gentle snore.

And then Anna lets her eyelids drop, allowing both sleep and happiness take over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *happy sigh* 😌


	26. Chapter 26

Anna wakes up feeling sticky and gross and sore. Sticky and gross because it’s freaking hot. Did the AC stop working? It was so cold last night, too. But she definitely sweated a lot and she hasn’t taken a shower, so that’s probably the other reason. The soreness, on the other hand, mostly comes from her lower back. Like _,_ it’s aching. Sort of like muscle pain? It’s the feeling you’d get when, Anna assumes, you do too much intensive weightlifting. Oh, god, is she aging? Why does she sound like an old woman?

When she opens her eyes, though, all those thoughts are gone. They disappear.

Because she sees white-gold. Luscious, soft, beautiful platinum blonde hair.

Anna inhales.

They’re in their default spooning positions again.

And, yep, Anna is right. Elsa. Smells. So. Freaking. _Good._

Even though she’s sure that they were both sweating last night. It was definitely a workout. But then to have this girl here, still wearing that aromatic lavender scent— _Anna breathes—_ it’s amazing. How is that even humanly possible?

Anna shifts. She needs to stretch. The clock reads _10:20am._ They definitely slept in. Not that it matters; it’s the weekend. Birthday weekend. Which means they can totally spend more time together. Maybe they can go watch a movie? Or they can wander around town and discover new dessert places as they always do. Oh! Before all of that, Anna should get up and surprise Elsa with breakfast.

Yep. She would like that. Elsa would definitely like that.

Give it to her in bed and all.

… the breakfast, that is.

So, with all her willpower, Anna removes herself from bed. As she stands, the soreness becomes more noticeable; Anna gives herself that big stretch she deserves, reaching up as high as she can with her arms and yawns. She finds her t-shirt and denim shorts, along with her panties left next to the coffee table—Elsa didn’t toss them as far as she thought she did. Anna slips them on, giggling at the thought that she actually had the intention of watching a movie while enjoying wine last night. _Ha._ Hilarious. And to think that Elsa was wearing that lingerie for the entire day leading to the most intense night of—

_Knock knock knock_

Anna’s ears perk up. She spins to the door so quickly she may have cracked her neck.

 _“Elsa, wake up!”_ Comes a familiar female voice, followed by more knocking. _“Please! Emergency!”_

“Mm…” Elsa moans in bed, throwing the covers over her head. “No… Saturday…”

The knocking becomes progressively louder, to the point that Anna thinks that the door might come down.

_“Elsa, seriously! Wake up!”_

That voice is, _um_ , who is it again? One of the engineering girls—oh! Honey Lemon!

_“It’s about our assignment! Sid submitted a CORRUPTED file and the prof is giving us until eleven to resubmit the thing. We need the backup data which YOU have! Please, WAKE UP!”_

In an instant, Elsa springs right up, like one of those cartoons where the zombie has risen from the grave. It’s almost comedic, really.

You know what’s even more comedic?

The fact that Elsa’s hair is tousled; that plait of hers has become a lost cause, and— _this is important—_ that bra is still hanging below her breasts.

Aw, hell _._

_Elsa’s boobs._

“Oh, gosh.” Elsa says, eyes wide on full alert. She jumps out of bed, literally tripping on herself as she tries to walk.

Anna catches the blonde effortlessly when she falls into her arms. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says softly. “Careful.”

Elsa whimpers. She sounds like an injured bunny (Anna is well aware of the fact that she compares Elsa to a bunny all the time, but can she help it?! What else is cuter than a bunny, huh? Nothing! Nothing but Elsa!) caught in a bear trap. Okay, well, maybe not that violent—not to that extent. Maybe a mousetrap? Anyway, it’s just a cute sound, is Anna’s point.

“T-the assignment’s worth forty percent of the entire course,” Elsa whispers, most likely to herself. She glances at the clock. _10:30am._ “Thirty minutes. I can still—we can… Anna!”

She stiffens. “Yes?”

“Please, help me to the door. I need Honey Lemon’s help—it’s one of our group projects.”

Anna’s mouth hangs open. “Um…” _Yeah,_ how is she going to tell Elsa this without embarrassing her? “Elsa, you’re kind of…”

The girl in question blinks.

And Anna tries her utter best not to look. Because if she does, her answer will become highly inappropriate. Right now, Elsa is not just _kind of,_ she is _really_ hot, sexy, beautiful, covered-with-bitemarks, still-wearing-the-lingerie, isn’t-really-wearing-a-shirt… _hot_. Saying any or some form of variation of these answers would likely leave Elsa in a blushing mess. So, Anna chooses—

“M-maybe put a shirt on first?”

To which Elsa turns red, anyway. Yet another whimper comes from her when she’s released from Anna’s grasp. And Anna, with cautious eyes, watches as Elsa limp towards her closet while she fixes that bra into place. Anna herself heads for the door that’s about to be broken down, and when Elsa’s thrown on a large, loose t-shirt that sort of passes as a dress, Anna finally opens the door.

“Els—Oh! Anna!” Honey Lemon exclaims. She runs forward, hugging the shorter girl with so much strength all the air is knocked out of her. “Good morning! I’m so sorry for waking you, but this is an emergency!”

Honey Lemon’s hyperactive tendencies aren’t anything new, but Anna hasn’t met anyone like her, so she needs some time to get used to it. Anna shakes her head, “No, it’s okay. I was awake. Um. Elsa’s right inside.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she removes her shoes in a flash, runs in, and greets Elsa in a similar fashion. With a bear hug, that is. Elsa reacts pretty much the same way as Anna did, except she’s able to do it with a small smile. Then, without wasting time, Elsa gestures towards the table, where her laptop sits. Honey Lemon grabs a chair to set it beside Elsa, and then the two are wired in.

“I thought the assignment was handed in last night?” Elsa says, eyes glued onto the screen.

Honey Lemon takes out a tablet from her purse that she was carrying. She starts flipping through it profusely. “It was, but Sid must’ve messed up the file somehow,” her words are accompanied by a sigh. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve followed up with it.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Elsa says quickly. “Trusting him to do it was a mistake. I have to take the responsibility as well. Sid’s not entirely… a trustworthy person to begin with. I should’ve been more careful.”

Honey Lemon props the tablet up next to Elsa’s laptop. “If I ever get put into a group with him again, I’m going to be very angry. I… I’ll sneak some smoke bombs into his backpack!”

Elsa giggles. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I so will! Just watch me!” Honey Lemon says without much threat, though she certainly is trying to appear threatening.

There comes another soft laughter from Elsa, and then she gets right back to the point like the diligent student that she is. “I think only one of our graphs got corrupted, which unfortunately made the whole document unreadable.”

“Yep, and I know that you have the data on that specific section, so…”

“Right here,” Elsa stares intently at her screen. “Let me just transfer it over…”

“Thank goodness it’s just one graph. Otherwise, I—gosh, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“It’s okay,” Elsa chuckles. “Don’t need to think about it. We’re okay. We’ll make it.” Her fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard. “Where’s Sid, by the way?”

Honey Lemon scoffs. “Sleeping in? Too hungover to respond to my calls? I dunno. One or the other.”

“Well,” Elsa shrugs. “I’m much happier that it’s just the two of us working on this.”

“That, I wholeheartedly agree on,” the other girl sighs. “We didn’t even need him in the first place.”

As the two older girls tend to their emergency, Anna decides to make herself useful. “Um, sorry to interrupt.”

Both girls perk their heads up, smiling.

A sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over her and Anna shirks. “I, uh, can’t help much with what you’re doing, but do you guys want something to drink? I can make coffee or tea.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet!” Honey Lemon chimes.

And Elsa’s smile becomes affectionate, her gaze tender. “Thank you, Anna. Do you mind making us some coffee?”

“No problem,” Anna says as she gets right to it, turning around to fire up the stove to get the kettle boiling. Behind her, the two girls continue to work.

“… she’s so cute, Elsa!” comes Honey Lemon’s _not-so-quiet_ whisper.

Anna feels a blush coming up from her neck.

“Y-yes,” Elsa coughs. “She’s, um… we need to focus.”

_Yeah! Focus, you two!_

“Mhmm.” There is this distinct, eerily weird pause. Then, in an actually quiet voice, “… that’s a challenge for me with that distracting bruise on your neck. Bet you two had a great time last night.”

_Wait…_

“… What?” Honey Lemon asks.

Anna’s eyes are bulging. Elsa’s probably going through the same kind of trauma right now.

“I was wondering who it was last night, making all those noises. Gosh, the entire building must’ve heard you! Okay, well, that’s a lie—probably just this floor. I’m not sure. We can ask Wasabi or Tadashi if they heard you downstairs?”

A gasp.

Anna isn’t sure whether it came from Elsa or herself. She just knows that her shoulders are scrunched up to her ears. There’s also this irrational fear that if were to turn around to face the two older girls right now, she’d disintegrate on the spot. As though she were to be condemned for doing something illegal. Even though she hasn’t. Wait, leaving an overt amount of bitemarks on her girlfriend isn’t illegal, is it? Does it count as cannibalism? Oh, god. She knew it was a weird fetish. She shouldn’t have—

“Oh, my, and what’s that?”

—and is it just her, or is Honey Lemon’s tone getting progressively more teasing?

“Huh! I did not see either one of you to be the neon-pink type.”

Elsa squeaks.

… Yeah, no. It’s not just her. Honey Lemon is clearly enjoying herself.

_Ugh._

She can picture it—Elsa’s probably doing that thing when she’s nervous, hiding her face in her hands and stuff. _Ughhh—_ why didn’t she hide that stupid _thing_ when she went to get the door?! Why did she have to bite Elsa so hard last night?! Just… pure _idiocy!_ Gotta fix this. Can’t let anyone make Elsa feel uncomfortable. T-this is all her fault, after all.

Anna sucks in a breath. She musters up the remaining courage left in her (it’s mostly getting knocked out of existence by her nerves) and runs towards the _thing,_ where she just kicks it under the bed. A loud _thud_ is heard, and it doesn’t occur to Anna how hard she actually kicked the _thing_ until she feels her toes pulsing.

Okay, _ow._ Like, that actually kinda hurt.

Faintly, because the sound of her hammering heartbeat is echoing in her ears, she thinks she can hear Honey Lemon caught in a fit of giggles. Anna’s body is tense, the remainder of the aforementioned courage has completely been drained; she’s just standing there, awkward, frozen, utterly embarrassed. God, she’s probably redder than a tomato right now.

“I’m so sorry,” Honey Lemon says through her laughter. “I didn’t mean to get you guys so worked up. I really don’t care about this stuff—I just wanted to tease you two!”

“I-it’s fine!” Anna says a bit too loudly (and perhaps a tad too high-pitched). She spins to face the girl with a forced smile. “Just… yep! Nothing’s wrong. I’m just gonna…”

 _Gonna_ what?! What the hell is Anna going to do? Explain why there’s a freaking _dildo_ (there! She said it. Or _thought_ it. Whatever!) strap-on lying on the floor? Explain about the sounds from the night before? Jeez, the possibilities are endless. Where, oh where should she start?

“… gonna take a shower!”

At that, Elsa’s reaction is instant. She glares at her in silence, but it screams ‘ _don’t leave me behind!’_

Which Anna just ignores. For the first time, she actually ignores Elsa. Yes, it’s pretty heartless of her, and yes, it hurts her to do this, but, like. She can hardly face Elsa with a straight face, let alone an audience!

As if on cue, the kettle boils. Right. The universe is giving Anna an opportunity to escape—it is literally telling her to get out of here. Who is Anna to reject the universe? She paces herself to the kitchen and prepares the coffee. As much as her hands are trembling from her nerves, Anna manages to pull herself together to bring the two steaming mugs to the older girls.

“Here you go!” Anna says, once again much too enthusiastically. She has to physically restrain herself from looking her girlfriend’s way. Because, god help her, if she does, she’s going to feel so freaking guilty for doing what she’s about to do— “Alright, you girls work hard. I _reeeally_ need to wash up.”

Anna doesn’t wait for a response, and she’s already in the bathroom with the door closed behind her.

 _Whew,_ it’s hot. Not just because she feels guilty for leaving Elsa behind, but because it genuinely is really freaking hot. She loves summer, but the heat is straight up unbearable sometimes. Anna throws her t-shirt over her head and slips out of her shorts and panties, tossing them into the laundry basket. Her bra, however, she removes carefully (because even though she can borrow Elsa’s clothes, she can’t borrow her bras—not the same size and all) and leaves it next to the sink.

Anna jumps into the tub and turns the shower on, adjusting the temperature to a lukewarm level and stands there, letting the water wash away the stickiness that clings to her skin.

That wasn’t too harsh, right? Leaving Elsa behind like that. It’s okay. Probably. She’ll apologize to her later.

Anna giggles to herself.

 _And_ she’ll make her breakfast. Make her that omelette and those hash browns she loves so much. Oh, and they can eat it together with the cake that Elsa’s made! She deserves to be pampered for the rest of the day from that alone. Seriously. That girl _._ Organizing her entire birthday. Calling up all her friends. Wearing that lingerie, even though Anna’s certain that it was killing Elsa bit by bit—at each passing hour—for the entire day. And, to top it off, to actually agree to doing it with that _thing_?

God damn.

Elsa is a dream, isn’t she?

Anna doesn’t realize how long she’s been standing in the shower for until her skin becomes all pruney. Egh. She should finish up.

* * *

Anna emerges from the shower, refreshed. Her hair is washed, her body feels clean, and she smells delightfully like Elsa. The towel hangs near the tub, and Anna (learning from the Queen of Voluminous and Fantastic Hair) dabs the excess water out of her hair before wrapping it around her body. There isn’t any noise coming from the outside, so the two are probably done with their project. Which is good because she forgot to grab a clean shirt when she came in here. Can’t go out in just her bra if there’s a guest over! No-no!

_Knock knock_

“Anna?”

She jumps. Her mind has got to stop rambling so much. “Yeah?”

“Are you done yet?”

“About to brush my teeth, but I’m about done.”

“O-okay.”

Anna raises a brow. She makes her way toward the door. “You need something?”

“No, I…” Elsa’s voice is small. Anna has to press her ear against the door to hear properly. “… I need to pee.”

 _Oh._ Anna giggles. She grabs the handle in an instant and swings the door open. A rush of cold air hits her—good, the AC’s up and running again—and she is greeted by Elsa, standing there with that oversized t-shirt and legs longer than _days_ and… just— _goodness._ She’s crossing her legs and it occurs to Anna now that the girl is still wearing the pantyhose. Which means she’s still wearing that garter belt. And the laced bra. And… did Elsa ever get a chance to put the panties back on?

Whoa.

She didn’t.

S-so, when she was working with Honey Lemon, she was going commando?! How scandalous!

“A-Anna… may I please use the washroom?”

“… Oh! My bad. Spaced out.” _Right._ She’s staring again. Anna steps aside to make room for the blonde, who immediately dashes towards the toilet.

It’s all natural. Of course Anna’s eyes would follow her. Of course they would remain on her. Because _of course_ Elsa is cute as hell even when she’s peeing—

“Please turn around…” Elsa mumbles. She’s clearly blushing, but she’s trying to hide it by looking away.

Anna thins her lips to suppress a grin. “But I have to brush my teeth,” she argues, walking up to the sink next to the toilet. Her eyes are on Elsa. Teasing, observing, unrelenting. Even as she brushes her teeth. Even as Elsa does her thing.

And then Anna realizes.

This is probably the most weirdly erotic situation they’ve been in.

Having sexual tension fill the air, mid-piss, mid-brushing teeth? Who does that? How does that even happen? God, so freaking weird. But it’s not like Anna can stop herself from staring. It’s not like Elsa can resist stealing glances at Anna _and_ turning red at the same time. And so, the unspoken tension only grows. At every passing second, Anna becomes more aware of her pounding heart. Of those quick, reluctant glances from Elsa’s blue eyes.

When Elsa finishes, she flushes. She does her absolute best to avoid eye contact with the redhead, opting to look at anything in the room but her. The mirrors covered in a layer of condensation. The wet footprints Anna’s left on the bath rug. The countless skincare and makeup products along the countertop.

Then she, too, approaches the sink. Elsa needs to wash up as well, after all. And Anna, now being right beside the taller girl, just stares. Blatantly so. Not because she is in absolute awe of the fact that Elsa is the definition of perfection (that much is already known), but because, genuinely, making Elsa blush has become a source of entertainment for her.

“Stop staring,” Elsa says through her pout. It’s obvious that she’s nervous—look at how her hands are trembling as she tries to apply toothpaste to her toothbrush.

 _Oh, okay._ The smirk on Anna’s face grows more prominent. So much fun. Teasing Elsa is so much freaking fun.

Anna comes in to wrap her arms around Elsa’s waist from behind. She hides half of her face in the taller girl’s shoulder. Soon, they are looking at each other through the mirror.

Here Anna is, wrapped in nothing but a towel, hair drenched, body still wet. And then there’s Elsa, still wearing that lingerie under the t-shirt, going _commando._ So hot. So erotic.

Okay, well. Save the fact that Elsa’s brushing her teeth. That part’s kind of unsexy.

But other than that, what outcome would there be from this situation?

Anna waits for her to finish, and as she waits, she kisses along Elsa’s shoulder, neck, the crook. Anna doesn’t stop until Elsa rinses, and then she turns the girl around. Anna’s body may be aching, but she still has the strength. Having said that, she tests it out; she lifts Elsa up, letting her sit on the sink as they remain locked in each other’s embrace. Elsa’s arms drape over her shoulders, and Anna’s circle around her waist. She stands between her girlfriend’s thighs.

“You’re insatiable.” Elsa mutters.

Their shared minty breath adds on to the heat. Anna hums, leaning up slightly so that their lips can touch. Just a touch, though. Nothing too intense, yet. “Can I help it?” Another one. A _feather-light_ touch. “You’re literally wearing my fantasy.”

“I did it for your birthday,” Elsa argues. It sounds more like a childish grumble, though. “And that ended eleven hours ago.”

“Mm,” she smiles. “Then let me take it off for you.”

“Pervert.”

Anna ignores her. She goes straight for that glaring bruise on her neck. Screw it if other people can see. _Let them see._ Let them know that Elsa belongs to her—

“Anna, you— _stop_.”

She grunts.

“Wait, s-stop,” Elsa pushes at her lightly.

Anna’s the one to pout this time. She looks up at the blonde with puppy eyes. It always works. In the same way that Elsa’s unintentional puppy eyes work on her. Except Elsa does it unknowingly. Anna, on the other hand, always has a purpose behind it. Always scheming. So very like a fox.

Elsa knows it, of course, but she never calls her out on it. She would always smile and go along. Right now is no exception. She caresses Anna’s cheek with the back of her fingers, brushing away strands of wet hair out of those teal eyes. “I mean to tell you earlier, but your mother called. I hope you don’t mind, but I picked it up for you.”

“Hm,” Anna purses her lips, thoughtful. “Kind of a turn-off to be talking about my mom right now.”

Elsa gives her a look.

“Alright, okay,” she chuckles. “Can’t be that important considering your lack of urgency to tell me. What did she say?”

Elsa continues to occupy herself with Anna’s hair. “Asked us to go home for dinner.”

A cheeky grin spreads over Anna’s face. “Go ‘home’?”

Elsa blinks.

She leans in. As she suspects, the statement went right over Elsa’s head. Anna tries to be clearer, “As in, not _my_ home, not _Anna’s_ home—but _home…_ without the pronoun, thereby implying that it belongs to _us?_ ”

It is then the blonde realizes what she means. As promised, she shirks, fighting to hide herself, but Anna holds her down. The arms wrapped around her waist tighten.

“Hey, no judgement,” Anna says. “My home is your home, right?”

The redness deepens.

This colour, representing all things passionate, all things happy, spreads to Anna’s chest. It radiates throughout her body, pulsing to every nerve-ending of her limbs. “I mean. Just like how your home is mine. Literally,” Anna gestures at the space they are in. “Elsa, I’ve been living here since… I dunno. After my last class? If anything, you should be charging me for rent.”

Her silly joke manages to push a giggle out of the blonde, who just shoves her lightly, but comes back in to resume the hug. “Way to ruin a romantic moment.”

“Aw, but nothing’s ruined,” Anna says. She comes back in to that bruise, this time sucking on it in the softest way possible. A kiss. A nibble. A _lick._

Elsa sighs. Her breathing becomes laboured. Slowly, she raises her head, giving Anna more access. She does this, but her hands, as if disobeying orders from their owner, comb frantically at Anna’s hair. “A-Anna, I...” She’s cut off by yet another stroke of Anna’s tongue, and Elsa has to grit her teeth when that stroke turns into a suckle. But she _tries._ “… I’m still sore from last night.”

Anna stills. In an instant, she draws back, a look of worry consuming her expression. “Did I hurt you after all?”

“No!” Elsa says a bit too quickly. She blushes but makes sure to continue—she needs to explain, because this is important. To both of them. “No, Anna,” she brings her dainty hands to frame the shorter girl’s face. “It’s nothing like that. I—you…” the redness deepens. “… You made me feel really good, honest.”

Unconvinced, Anna creases her brows together. If she ever hurt Elsa in any way, she would never forgive herself. “Promise me you’re not lying?”

“I could never.” Elsa says without hesitation. “It’s just… too much.” She bites her lip. “I-it feels kind of funny—down there. Not just sore, but, um. Kind of… pulsing?”

What? Pulsing? So, like, a heartbeat? Down _there?_ Anna has no idea what she’s going on about. She tilts her head, curious.

“Never mind.” Elsa mutters.

“I—but I’m still confused.”

She sighs. Her eyes dart to the corner of the room, embarrassed. “I-it feels like I’m still… y’know.”

“… No?”

Elsa groans. She sounds annoyed, bothered, on the verge of losing her patience. But she’s not the type. Elsa would sooner bottle up all her feelings than to release her emotions out on anyone, which is why the next thing she does isn’t something that surprises Anna one bit. Elsa throws her arms around Anna, hiding her face on the latter’s bare shoulder. Then comes a quiet, whispered voice—

“… like I’m still going through an org… _erm_.”

Anna’s heart flutters.

“I see you look at me. I hear your voice. I think about you a little, a-and…” the vibrations of her voice serve to send Anna’s heart race even faster. More rapid. Unbearable. “… you don’t even need to do anything, and I feel as though you’re making me… ah…”

She sucks in a deep inhale. Nothing but the scent of Elsa. Not just lavender this time, though. Anna focuses and reimagines everything that the girl’s just told her, and her senses are heightened. Now, she can even smell _Elsa._ As in, _her._ Right there. Anna knows that Elsa is just giving her an innocent confession, but how is it that this very innocence—this genuine purity—is able to turn her on so, so, _so_ much? Simply put, Elsa’s dirty talking without trying. And. _God._

“You tell me all of this,” Anna starts quietly, “while expecting me to hold myself back?”

“Well, you’re not exactly being subtle either,” Elsa argues. “Walking around so scandalously in a towel and all.”

“Me, scandalous?” Anna pulls away. “You’re the one going commando. Look at you!” Abruptly, she yanks Elsa’s oversized shirt up, which, of course, earns her a high squeak from the girl. Elsa fights to pull the shirt down, but Anna isn’t backing down. “I knew it. This means that you were working with Honey Lemon without underwear on.” As her smirk widens, Elsa’s blush deepens. “So, who’s the perverted one now?”

“I-I didn’t exactly have the time to put anything on!”

“Uh huh.”

“Anna!”

Note, they are still ‘fighting’. With Anna yanking at her shirt and Elsa pulling it down to cover her lower body. A silly quarrel—nothing to take too seriously, because through the laughter (from Anna’s side, mostly), there is joy. Through Elsa’s pink cheeks, through their flailing limbs, there is love.

Anna can only hope to wake up to this every morning, for the rest of her life.

But, “Alright,” she eventually says, letting go of Elsa’s shirt. She comes back in for one more hug. “I’m gonna leave you to it. I should get dressed soon before I get accused of being a pervert again.”

Elsa returns the hug. “But… you are.”

She gives her a playful eye-roll before removing herself from the embrace. Anna clutches onto her towel and grabs her bra to promptly leave the bathroom. It isn’t until she reaches the door that Elsa calls to her—

“Wait, Anna!”

—rather desperately, might she say. Anna blinks. She turns around. “Hm?”

Elsa, perhaps still going through the aforementioned _pulses,_ limps clumsily to her. Before Anna can question her, however, she’s spun around, forced to face the wall while Elsa is… what is she doing?

“Wha—what happened?” Anna asks. Her answer comes in the form of a gentle touch—Elsa’s fingers—on her skin, followed by a sharp stinging pain that shoots right into her gut. Anna holds back a yelp, she fights the urge to jump away from Elsa.

“I’m so sorry—I didn’t… oh gosh…” comes the immediate apology.

“I’m fine, it didn’t hurt that much, it’s…” Anna pauses, making her way back to the mirror above the sink to check on the problem. And then. Um. _Wow._

Scratches. Faint, red, claw-like scratches that run along her shoulder blades. At a glance, Anna can make out ten of these scratches. Now that she thinks about it, Elsa did hug her pretty tightly last night. It’s just in the midst of their passion, she couldn’t feel the girl actually scarring her. God, no wonder it kind of stung when she was in the shower earlier. If she weren’t so busy recounting the sensations from the night before, then the pain probably would have hit her sooner.

“Does it hurt?” Elsa asks, voice layered with nothing but concern.

Which just makes Anna smile. She shakes her head. “No, just stings a little. Don’t worry so much.” The simple words do nothing to convince Elsa, she knows. So, she adds, “I mean, have you seen the scrapes and bruises I used to get during my games? Yeesh, those were horrid. Scary movie-tier stuff.”

Still, Elsa is wearing that look of worry. Hands clutched together in front of her and everything, she looks like she’s about to walk into a police station to confess her crimes.

And it’s silly, because she’s done nothing wrong.

Anna just has to approach this differently.

“Not gonna lie,” _aaaand_ they’re back in that position from earlier. With Anna pinning Elsa’s backside against the countertop. She arches a corner of her lips upward into another smirk. “It’s pretty hot to see these scars on me.”

Elsa, on the other hand, is still looking as guilty as ever. She immediately closes the embrace; Anna can tell that she’s observing those scars as she runs meticulous fingers down them. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

 _Whoops._ Been seen through. Anna sighs and moves onto her next point. “More importantly, are you sure I didn’t hurt _you_?”

Still locked in the embrace, Elsa nods. “I’m sure.”

“Your turn to promise me that you’re not lying.”

Elsa breathes. “I only did this,” she traces those scratches again, lightly, “because you…” pauses to hug Anna even tighter, “… you do things to me, Anna.”

“… _Things_.” She smirks.

“Shut up.”

A soft laughter bubbles in Anna’s chest. She knows for a fact that if she were to draw away now, she would most likely be greeted with another tomato-red Elsa. She chooses to remain in the embrace, however, because—come on, there is no place else she wants to be. “I wouldn’t mind doing _things_ to you again if you’re up for it.”

She gets a kiss on her shoulder in response. “… Pervert.”

Anna chuckles. “I’ll take that, if it means we can stay in this hug a bit longer.” She draws back. Their lips find each other most naturally, but neither feels the need to push this tender moment further.

Everything is as it should be. Just this alone is enough.

Anna and Elsa, in each other’s arms.

Nothing can change them.

* * *

She’s managed to convince Elsa to _not_ bring anything to dinner. It’s become a custom—sort of a habit, really—that the girl would bring something to their home. If it’s not wine, it would be dessert. Anna believes with all her heart that if Elsa’s parents were still alive, they would be extremely proud of their daughter for being such a sweetheart. In the brief time that they have had, they truly raised the girl right. Well, it’s probably also thanks to Gerda, but Anna is confident that being polite, kind, and any synonym that relates to _nice_ flows in Elsa’s blood. It’s the root of her existence.

“You sure it’s okay?” Elsa asks. Her hand, gripping loosely onto Anna’s, lacks the strength. Like she lacks the confidence.

Anna smiles. “More than okay. We have Eugene’s wine, don’t we?” she holds up the bag.

“No, but… I didn’t get anything. It’s rude of me to show up empty-handed.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs. “Seriously, Elsa. If anything, mom and dad would be proud that you finally listened. They’ve been asking you to stop bringing gifts!” She fishes for her keys in her pocket and unlocks the front door. “Hellooo, I’m home,” she announces as she steps through the threshold.

“Anna!” her mother’s voice comes from the kitchen. Not more than a few seconds later, she comes out to the hallway. “Oh, Elsa! It’s so good to see you.”

“Wow. You show more enthusiasm seeing Elsa than your daughter.” Anna says, feigning hurt.

“She is the better daughter,” her mother says in a heartbeat. So quickly that neither of them can react to the statement. “Now, what is that? Another gift?” She says, pointing at the paper bag that holds the wine Anna’s holding onto.

“No, actually,” Anna answers. “For once, she listened. This is a wine from a friend, not from Elsa.”

“Ah, at last,” Iduna comes closer, taking the bag from Anna’s hands, and while she would only give her daughter a hug as an affectionate display, this time, she gives Elsa one as well.

Which, obviously, comes as a surprise. The blonde tenses. Then, her eyelids flutter, and a light flush creeps up her neck.

“Mom, you’re scaring Elsa,” ever the protective one, Anna says before she can stop herself.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” the woman says. She pulls back, cupping Elsa’s cheek with a palm and smiles tenderly at the girl. “I just wanted to thank her for always taking care of you.”

Embarrassed, Elsa dips her head. “No, I—Anna’s the one who takes care of me. I’m glad to have her around, and…” when Iduna steps back, Elsa starts brushing her braid to her front. While the gesture may seem innocent, Anna knows that she’s trying to hide that bruise on her neck ( _yes, please hide it!_ Because she does not know how to explain to her mother why such a violent mark exists. Or, like. She can figure it out herself, but it’s not something that Anna wants to discuss with her mother about, _okay?!_ ). “… Thank you for having me as always, Iduna.”

“Silly girl, always so polite. You don’t have to be so stiff! You’re always welcomed here, even when Anna’s not home, you hear me?” The woman laughs.

Hearing that, Elsa’s smile widens, and Anna swears that her blue eyes are sparkling a little, but the blonde does well in hiding it by lower her head even more.

“Come, my husband’s grilling some steaks. We’ll be having dinner on the patio tonight, bring your shoes to the back.”

Anna laces her fingers together with Elsa’s, catching the latter’s attention. “You okay?” she whispers. Indeed, seeing Elsa up close, Anna can tell—there really are tears in her eyes.

Elsa nods. Eagerly so. Because she can’t talk right now. If she so much as makes a noise, she would lose control of her emotions. Anna understands this, so she holds onto Elsa’s hand with both of her own.

It’s equally as touching as it breaks her heart.

They invite Elsa over for dinner all the time. Naïve as she is, Anna never thinks much about it. Because, honestly, why does she have to? A mother, a father, a family—all standard stuff. But what of Elsa? How foolish of her to not realize that for Elsa, this is something that she lacks and ultimately desires? So to know— _now—_ that this familial love means so much to the girl, Anna can’t help have such paradoxical emotions whirling deep in her chest.

The most she can do now is to provide Elsa with comfort. She leans in to peck her on the cheek. “Come on, let’s head inside.” 

Elsa’s sniffle is quiet, but Anna definitely hears it. They smile tenderly at each other, and when they make it to the kitchen, Elsa’s already offering to help out with the preparations.

Anna, meanwhile, watches—satisfied—as her girlfriend is so seamlessly accepted into her family. She just wishes that she became more aware earlier of how important this all is to Elsa. But seeing this image, this picture-perfect scene of Elsa, being alongside her family, smiling, laughing, so filled with joy—Anna is assured.

* * *

“This is delicious!” Her father exclaims upon taking a tiny sip of the wine. “Where did you say you got this again, Elsa?”

The blonde giggles. “Oh, no, it’s not from me. It’s actually a gift for Anna. From one of my friends.”

“Mhmm,” Anna nods. She cuts away at the steak, letting her knife sink into the buttery-soft, medium-rare ribeye—only her favourite. The deep, juicy pinkness oozes at each slice, and _god,_ it smells so good. She takes a bite. “Eugene. Met through Elsa. He’s dating Rapunzel.”

“Don’t talk when you’re chewing,” her mother scolds. “And I never knew Rapunzel has a boyfriend. Gosh, her mother never told me. When did that happen?”

“Actually,” Anna swallows. “I’m not sure if they’re dating yet. I’ve never seen them hold hands or anything. Were they holding hands during the party?”

“They seemed quite close,” Elsa says. “But no. No hand-holding from what I saw.”

“Hm. This boy better act quickly. Rapunzel’s a brilliant girl. Anyone would be lucky to have her.” Anna’s father states as he takes another sip from his glass.

“Oh, Eugene’s a nice guy,” Anna says, not wanting to give her parents the wrong impression. “They’re great together, don’t worry. I’m sure Rapunzel’s interested, but you know her. Always focusing on her studies ahead of anything else.”

The conversations they have drift from topic to topic. Elsa’s upcoming internship at a start-up architectural firm in September, Anna’s part-time job, and, though short-sighted, it is what Anna considers to be the most important thing right now.

“You two booked all your tickets to Japan already?”

The two break into a grin.

“Yep,” Anna answers. “Did it way back in May. We found a nice deal online, so we went for it without thinking.”

“Whereabouts in Japan will you be visiting?” Iduna asks, swirling the wine in her glass.

“Mostly Tokyo. We’ve done some research; most guides say that twenty days isn’t enough to visit the entirety of Japan.”

“So we thought that we’ll focus on Tokyo this time,” Elsa adds. “Maybe in the future, we can visit the other parts of the country.”

“Mm, smart,” Agnarr nods. “If you get bored of the city, you can always take the bullet train to other cities. I recommend Shizuoka, personally, but that’s an entire trip on its own right there.”

Anna quirks a curious brow. “Dad, you’ve been to Japan?”

“Well, of course I’ve been!” He says. “Went on an Asia trip with my buddies after I finished law school. And you seem to forget that I travel a lot, Anna. I had to meet a client from Osaka three years ago.”

“I don’t remember every single trip you take, dad.” Anna grumbles. She turns to her mom. “Have you also been there?”

“Anna, my dear, I went there for exchange during my undergrad.”

“Wha—you never told me!”

“You never asked.”

“How would I know to ask?”

“Mm, good point. Anyway,” she turns to her husband. “Are you going to tell her?”

“Sure,” Agnarr places his wine glass down. “So, Anna.”

She blinks. Her parents, sitting right across from her and Elsa, are behaving so strangely. She doesn’t recall doing anything wrong. Subtly, Anna turns to Elsa for guidance—who, likewise, is looking lost. Underneath the table, Anna opens her hand, and Elsa automatically takes it.

But their confusion is quickly taken away when the two adults chuckle.

“Relax, you two,” her father says.

“We’re about to tell you something.”

Anna hitches a breath. She stiffens in her seat. “Oh god.” Her eyes dart down to her mother’s stomach. “Please, please, _please_ don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Iduna laughs—it’s a happy sound, and would always fill Anna with joy, but right now, she is dreading.

“Would that be so bad? To have a sibling?”

“Well, no! But, like… aren’t you a bit too old?”

The laughter stops. Anna is met with a scowl. _Oops._ Said something to trigger her mother. “I mean, um. Sorry. Not old. Very young. You look like you’re in your late thirties.”

A cough.

“Er… I mean, early thirties?”

The scowl remains.

“ _Anyway!”_ Anna snaps her fingers. “What is it that you want to tell me?”

“It’s your birthday present, kid,” her father chuckles. “We thought since we haven’t gotten you anything, we can sponsor your trip a little.”

“Sponsor?”

“What’s a Japan trip without an onsen experience?” her mother says, finally breaking out of her scowl. “We thought that we can book you two a week at a ryokan near Mount Fuji.”

Onsen? Ryokan? _What?_

Anna desperately wants to ask, but before she can say anything, Elsa is already speaking—

“I… wait, no, Iduna, Agnarr, this is a gift for Anna, yes? I-I’ll pay the difference, please—”

“Okay, we knew you were going to be like this,” Anna’s father cuts in. “So let us say that this is… hm, a payment? Yeah, sure. A payment for all those times you’ve allowed our daughter to stay with you.”

“No! I can’t accept that, it’s too much! Near Mount Fuji? That’s—that has to be expensive!”

“Oh, please,” Iduna laughs as she rolls her eyes. “The ryokans in Hakone are nothing compared to the ones in Hokkaido.”

 _Alright,_ Anna has absolutely no idea what everyone is saying. She knew she should’ve studied up on the Japanese geography ( _and_ language). Somebody remind her to look up common phrases before the trip.

“Um…” She takes Elsa’s hand under the table. “What did my parents just give us?”

Elsa, looking all apologetic and uneasy, grips firmly onto Anna’s hand. “Your parents offered to pay for a trip to a bathhouse near Mount Fuji. It… Anna, please convince them to let me pay my difference?”

“Huh. So that’s what it is.” Anna turns to her parents. “Thanks, guys!”

“Anna!”

“Uh-uh, nobody’s paying any difference. There’s nothing you can do about it, Elsa.”

“But—”

“Elsa, dear,” Iduna’s soft voice interrupts her, and when the blonde’s attention is on the woman, she goes on, “Please, accept this. It truly isn’t much compared to what you deserve.”

Elsa shakes her head. “I haven’t…” she lowers her head. Her voice softens, “… I haven’t done anything.”

“Oh, but you’ve done plenty,” Agnarr says, his voice gentle. “You could use a break, wouldn’t you say?”

By now, Anna can see her shoulders trembling. If she were to hug Elsa right now, the girl would probably start crying. So Anna holds back. She holds back, and opts to tighten her grip on Elsa’s hand.

“Elsa,” Iduna calls softly.

The girl in question lets a few quiet moments pass by, and even though her eyes are red, gleaming with more tears than before, she raises her head.

“If you truly wish to repay us, maybe when Anna’s gone off to college, you can still come by every week for dinner. Then, you can bring as much wine and dessert as you want.”

“We will be glad to share them with you, even without our daughter’s presence.”

Anna smiles. As silly as they are, as cruel as their jokes may be at times, they really are the best parents. Come to think of it, her mother is the whole reason she and Elsa are together. Talk about the ultimate wingman. When the time is right, Anna will thank her parents properly. Not because of the gift—well, yes, that’s part of the reason, but no, it’s not just that. It’s more so because of Elsa. Because of their unconditional love for her. And, _god,_ it makes Anna so happy that they love her. It makes her so happy that Elsa is so openly accepted into the family.

She wraps an arm around Elsa’s tiny frame.

Then, very naturally, their eyes find each other, and finally— _finally,_ the tears come. Anna reacts in an instant. Doesn’t matter if her parents are watching. She kisses the trails away, again and again, until the trembling stops. Until the sobbing turns into quiet giggles.

“I-I’m so sorry…” Elsa says with a shaky voice. “This doesn’t usually happen, but I’m just…” She wipes away the remainder of the tears. “… I’m—thank you,” the words are directed to Agnarr and Iduna. “I will visit for sure. Every week. I hope I won’t be a bother.”

“Nonsense,” Anna’s mother says. “We love having you here, Elsa. No matter how busy it gets for any of us, you have to show up, okay?”

“Cook us another one of your meals, will you?” Agnarr joins in. “Man. What you made that time when we came back from France? Mmm. I dream of the taste every once in a while.”

Elsa breaks into giggle. “I will, definitely.” Then, at last, she turns to face Anna—her smile ever so affectionate.

It’s infectious. Anna’s own smile widens, and she plants a kiss on Elsa’s forehead.

“Thank you, Anna,” comes Elsa’s whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Anna kisses the crown of Elsa’s head in response. “Anything for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... to Japan next chapter!
> 
> Thank you guys as usual for the kudos, bookmarks, and ESPECIALLY the comments. Seriously, opening up my email to see a notification of a new comment always makes me smile :’)


	27. Chapter 27

“Why do you keep refreshing the page?” Anna peers over at Elsa’s phone.

She sighs. “The final marks are supposed to come out today.”

Anna scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, okay. What else are you going to get other than an A+?” She takes out her own phone and opens up the spreadsheet that she and Elsa (mostly Elsa) have been compiling for the past month. “More importantly, you should study up on our plan! What if things don’t fall into place? What if the routes that we’re using are suddenly changed? We have to be prepared to seek alternatives, Elsa. This isn’t a joke!”

Elsa, likewise, gives the redhead an eye-roll of her own. “Anna, Japan is one of the most organized countries in the world. I highly doubt that they would suddenly change the train and bus routes.”

“But what if something broke down? Like, what if there’s a car accident? What if a train station explodes?! What do we do then, huh?”

“Okay, okay,” Elsa laughs. “I get it. Enough with your overreacting—I’ll start memorizing the routes.”

She grins and leans over on Elsa’s shoulder to look into her phone screen.

_“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight JL012 to Haneda. We are now inviting passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance…”_

Anna squeals. She starts shaking Elsa’s arm, urging the girl to stand with her. Anna doesn’t recall the last time she got this excited over a line. Okay, well, maybe when she was heading into Disney World when she was seven. God, she got so happy when the person left a Micky Mouse stamp on her palm. The feeling has thus far been incomparable until now.

“Come on, come on, come on!” she pulls onto Elsa’s arm, leading her to the line. All she and Elsa are carrying are backpacks of their own; their luggage is already dropped off at check-in. It’s good to pack light, advices her parents, so that they can bring home a lot of souvenirs.

“Calm down,” Elsa giggles. “It’s not our turn yet.”

“But can’t we just camp near the queue and then line up when it’s our turn?”

“The plane isn’t going to take off right away just because we’ve boarded!”

She pouts in defeat. Good point. Anna has got to contain her excitement. She appears more excited than any of the children here. Well, it’s probably because it’s late in the evening and the kids are completely exhausted, but nope, not her. Nah-uh. The plan is to take the overnight flight so that they’d arrive in Tokyo in the morning. They’d check in at their Airbnb, head out for breakfast, meet up with Tadashi and Gogo (who have finished their share of finals a week before Elsa and are therefore already on vacation) to be guided by locals; they’d exhaust all their energy and then pass out when they head back at night. The next day, they will be completely recharged and reenergized. According to Elsa, this is the optimal way to get rid of jetlag.

“Okay, fine…” Anna sighs and occupies herself with the spreadsheet once more. But it’s apparent that she is being really fidgety, for her fingers won’t stop scrolling up and down and tapping at random places.

Elsa seems to know this, which is why she takes Anna’s hand. The redhead looks up, and she is met with the blonde’s usual, tender smile of reassurance. “Maybe you can help me message Tadashi and Gogo? See what they have planned for us on the first day?”

In an instant, Anna’s eyes light up. “Is that okay? It wouldn’t wake them or anything, right?”

“It’s two in the afternoon in Japan right now, so I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Elsa laughs.

Anna does a little internal cheer and opens up the group chat with her, Elsa, Tadashi, and Gogo—a sort of impromptu one made several weeks earlier when the latter couple discovered that the former is visiting Tokyo.

 _‘Hey, guys! Elsa and I are boarding right now. Can’t wait to see you in about…’_ Anna does a mental calculation, _‘… thirteen hours :D!’_

Tadashi’s reply is instant. _‘Be sure to get a lot of sleep on the flight, you two.’_

 _‘Uh huh,’_ comes Gogo’s response. _‘With us, you better have enough energy. It’s going to get wild.’_

Elsa huffs to the message. She opens up the chat on her own phone and starts typing, _‘I hope you guys remember that Anna’s still a minor by Japanese standards…’_

Anna quirks a curious brow. “How wild can it get if a fourteen-year-old is to come along?”

“Oh, Hiro won’t be there. He’s flown out to M.I.T. to give a presentation on his microbots.”

“Micro-what now?”

“Something he’s been working on this past semester. I’m not that familiar with robotics engineering myself, but the entire faculty thinks that it’s going to be the next big thing.”

“Huh,” Anna purses her lips. “Bigger than the internet?”

Elsa chuckles. “ _Way_ bigger,” she says. Then, she scoots a little closer to the girl—an attempt to be teasing, perhaps, as she lowers her voice to whisper, “So, you don’t have to worry about getting jealous, since he won’t be around to take me away from you.”

How else can she react to that than to blush? See what she means when she says that Elsa is unpredictable?! Anna isn’t sure whether she likes the shy her or this borderline-daring one. Maybe a bit of both. Actually, no. Any facet of Elsa is loveable, because Anna is _that_ biased. The blonde can be at her worst and Anna would still throw herself in front of a truck for this girl.

Anna clears her throat. “Just so you know, Hiro and I made truce a long time ago.”

“Mhmm.”

Oh, okay. Being cocky now, is she? Anna bites her lip and comes in with another tactic.

“Even if he were here,” she leans in to speak directly into Elsa’s ear, her voice mellow, “Do you think I’d let him get anywhere close to you?”

It’s as expected. When Anna pulls away, Elsa’s cheeks are already pink. In turn, it sends a warm rush of blood straight into her heart. Anna herself feels a bit of heat rising to her own cheeks upon witnessing such a phenomenon, but she will never get over the fact that this tiny gesture would leave an impact like this.

_“Ladies and gentlemen, this is an announcement to ask all passengers—”_

“L-let’s get in line.” Elsa says, breaking the heavy tension in the air. She walks ahead, leaving Anna behind, who is still caught in a cheeky and rather mischievous little smirk.

It’s going to be a long flight.

* * *

Yes, it is going to be long, indeed. Because, well, perhaps due to her being too drunk on excitement, Anna _cannot_ —for the life of her—seem to fall asleep. They are six hours into the flight. She’s already watched three-and-a-half movies. The tall, elegant, and kind Japanese flight attendant even notices how troubled she is and comes by to give her chocolate ice-cream. Twice! But still, she can’t. The lights are off; Elsa’s long passed out on her shoulder halfway into the first movie, and Anna’s just sitting here. Anxious, restless, and entirely worn out.

It’s also around this time that Anna remembers she isn’t that good at falling asleep on vehicles. She never did it during those road trips with her parents; she never did it when they flew down to Orlando to Disney World when she was younger, so, yeah. She sucks at sleeping on moving objects, apparently.

(Oh, but she did fall asleep in Elsa’s car several times. And that says a lot about how good the girl’s driving skills are.)

This proves to be problematic, because if she doesn’t fall asleep soon, she’s not going to get enough of it. And when they land, she’s going to be super tired, thus wearing down Elsa, thus dragging down their activities for the day, _thus_ ruining the trip.

No. No, no, _no._ She will have none of this.

Anna clenches her eyes shut. Come, this shouldn’t be that difficult. With the lights out, she can usually fall straight—

Just as the statement is able to complete itself, the lights come on. Blinding white lights. They replace the comfortable darkness that surrounded them mere seconds earlier. Anna, being unable to move with Elsa resting comfortably on her, tries to extend her neck as far as she can to glance out into the aisle. Sure enough, the flight attendants are pushing a trolley out, one on each aisle. Oh, boy. Is it breakfast time? Anna swipes at the screen in front of her. _Japan time: 8:30pm._ Okay, so… technically, dinner time-ish? Anna is inclined to say that she’s more so tired than hungry, but maybe after she eats, she’ll get food coma and can finally fall asleep.

Elsa moans next to her, snuggling closer to find that good spot on her shoulder, which catches Anna’s attention. She smiles, as she will never in her life get over the adorableness to the blonde’s sleeping face. She also can’t resist pressing a kiss to her forehead and by then, the flight attendant is nearly at their row. Anna nudges Elsa a little to rouse her.

“Hey, it’s time to eat.” She says softly.

Another moan, and then Elsa blinks her weary eyes open.

Anna greets her with a smile.

“Good evening, ladies,” the flight attendant, now at their row, hands them both a small menu. “Would you like the pasta with chicken, or the bento with fish?”

“Bento for me, please.” Anna says without hesitation.

Elsa, still fighting her droopy eyes, looks intently at the menu. “Um. Same, thank you.”

They are handed their meals promptly. Food is assorted in the most aesthetically-pleasing way—rice divided on one side, the fish and vegetable garnishes on another; there’s a heated bun with butter, what appears to be miso soup, some fruits, and, what have you? Another ice-cream?! God, Anna’s going to gain a few pounds from this meal alone.

Alright, okay. She will _have to_ get food coma from this. If not, then… well. She’ll see from there.

“Anna?” Elsa suddenly calls to her.

“Hm?” she responds, not even looking the blonde’s way as she’s too busy opening up her utensils.

“I’m sorry I slept the whole time, you probably got really bored.”

She blinks and considers telling her that it’s fine, there’s no problem, because she occupied herself with the inflight movies. Much to her surprise, what comes out instead is—

“It’s okay, I passed out as well.”

Why she said that, however, will forever remain a mystery. Though, Anna is about seventy-five percent sure that she said it to make sure Elsa wouldn’t feel bad. White lies are okay, right?

The corners of Elsa’s lips arch upwards. “Mm, this looks delicious,” she says as she opens up the lid to her bento box. “Can’t wait to eat a real bento when we land.”

“We’ll have more than bento boxes when we’re there, Elsa.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, but I…” Elsa breaks her wooden chopsticks in half, “… I’ve never had the traditional kind before.”

A thought comes to Anna. She says it without thinking, “Aren’t there a lot of tutorials on YouTube? I’ll make you one when we’re home.”

Elsa laughs. “Are you saying you’ll pack my lunch for me?”

“Oh, I will give you the most _loving_ packed lunch, my dear,” Anna says with an exaggerated tone, wriggling her eyebrows at the blonde all the while.

But Elsa plays along. “Oh, but when, pray tell, will you find the opportunity to perform such an arduous task?”

“Why, when you’re off to work, of course. At your new internship! I’ll wake up early—you know how I’m good at that—and make you a _loving_ bento box, and I’ll pack it nicely so that by lunch time, you can…” Anna stops herself once it hits her. Her voice just trails off, like a dying flame.

Quiet, unheard.

Elsa forces a smile. That’s what she does—she forces it.

The air around them grows thick, but no.

_No, please._

Not now.

They’re supposed to be on vacation. Nothing of reality matters.

“Point is!” Anna continues, she starts picking up a piece of sliced eggplant and shoves it in her mouth. “I’ll make you the most traditional bento box you have ever seen that Japanese chefs will be like, _whoa! That white girl is more Japanese than we are!”_

A soft giggle escapes the blonde. “Right. And then you’ll be hired by some Michelin Three-Star restaurant in Tokyo, and it’ll be the first step to your dream of opening up _Anna Eriksen’s Magnificent Mashed Potatoes,_ yes?”

“You actually remember that,” Anna says, a tad embarrassed.

Elsa turns to her, and as soon as their gazes meet, Anna melts. The kindest, softest blue eyes. Sparkling with life, with love, and— _it breaks her heart—_ a hint of sadness.

“… I want to remember everything that you tell me, Anna.”

There is this moment where a comfortable silence wraps itself around them. But as soon as they feel its touch, it disappears. Gone like a summer breeze. The comfort grows into something heavy, and it weighs down Anna’s heart.

_So shove it aside._

“Am I that memorable?” Anna smiles, hesitant. She picks at her food.

Elsa takes her free hand, threading their fingers together. She doesn’t say anything; Elsa just returns Anna’s smile with one of her own.

And as they finish their food in silence, Anna tells herself that it’s the aforementioned _comfortable_ silence, not the heavy one.

Definitely—not the heavy one.

* * *

Getting through customs in Japan is perhaps the smoothest thing _ever._ Back at home? God, waiting in line just to speak with the freaking officer can sometimes take more than three hours. And that’s just when they’re flying domestic! This is international stuff, and it’s going way faster! Seriously! Airports back at home should really get it together.

Still, Anna encounters a fair share of issues. Likely because she never got any sleep in the end. Hence, everything is unclear, and she can hardly concentrate. For example, she somehow mistakenly declares that she is carrying more than one million yen in cash (it is a misunderstanding; she couldn’t quite get used to the accent when explaining herself), that she is here on business (again, misinterpretation due to the accent), and, really, just a bunch of stuff that makes Elsa laugh when she tells her afterwards.

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry,” Elsa says without much commitment. Anna would be pissed, but _lord,_ the girl is giving her that dorky lopsided grin. How can she even think to stay mad?

“Let’s just…” she scoffs, “… get an Uber and head to our Airbnb. Gotta drop off our stuff and then head out to meet up with Tadashi and Gogo. Can’t keep them waiting.”

“Mmn,” Elsa pulls up their phone. Ten gigabytes worth of data may be too much for a twenty-day trip, considering how both of them have one of their own, but who knows what can happen? Besides, they got a good deal online, so why not? “I think taking a cab at this hour is cheaper than calling an Uber.”

“Oh? Then…” Anna glances around.

Haneda airport has this chic and clean white-slash-glassy theme that surrounds its space. The balconies on the upper level which Anna assumes is the departures, the automatic doors, along with the ceilings all give off a futuristic vibe. Seriously. It’s like they have travelled in time and are in some high-tech place built fifty years later. See, even the signs—something as simple as the freaking _signs_ give off the same feeling. They have these cool logos next to what they are, so Anna doesn’t really have to squint to read the English description to understand them. And that is precisely how she finds what she is looking for.

“There, Elsa,” she points to a specific direction. “It says _taxi_ over there.”

They drag their luggage to their destination, passing through a series of automatic glass doorways, and with each door, Anna feels her heart pound harder. It’s almost like she’s going through a bunch of portals that lead her to another dimension, the last one being right there in her sight. Once pass that, she will officially be stepping on Japanese soil, officially be breathing Japanese air, officially be _in Japan—_

“Oh… oh my god.”

“Mhmm, yep.”

—but she did not know that it would be this humid. Never mind the heat— _that_ she can manage. But this humidity?! Good lord, this is gross! Her skin is all moisty, it’s sticky everywhere, and… and she hasn’t even started sweating yet and _ugh!_ She’s barely using any strength to hold onto the handle of her luggage and her palm has gotten sweaty! Like she’s dipped her hand in a bucket of warm water. Of warm _sweat_. Her shirt is sticking to her back mostly because of her backpack, but, just. Ew.

“I thought you knew that Asia can get really humid?” Elsa says with a nonchalant smile.

Anna is already wiping away the sweat on her forehead with the back of her palm. “I didn’t know it would be this bad. I feel like I’m walking in a cloud of sweat right now.”

“You’re not wrong.”

She grimaces. “I’m surprised that you’re okay with this.”

“I, for one, am not a princess.” Elsa’s smile turns into yet another wide grin.

“Uh-huh, okay,” Anna shoves her lightly, rolling her eyes but doesn’t suppress her own grin. “Let’s just get a cab and pray that they’ll be blasting the AC.” Her suggestion ends with an unintentional yawn.

Which, of course, raises some concerns in Elsa. The blonde steps closer, “Anna,” she calls carefully. “Are you okay? You look tired. Did you not get enough sleep?”

“Wha… no—” she tries to explain, mid-yawn, which just makes Elsa worry more. _Ah,_ damn it, have to fix this. She clears her throat, fights the tears in her eyes. _Just act natural._ “It’s the, uh, morning. I yawn in the morning all the time, don’t I?”

Unconvinced, Elsa pouts.

“Really!” Anna starts doing jumping-jacks. “See? I’m wide-awake! Super energetic!”

“Okay, okay,” Elsa takes her hand. She lowers her voice. “You’re going to hurt someone.”

“Just proving to you that I’m as healthy as ever!”

The blonde hums. She reaches to brush at Anna’s fringes, and then she fixes those twin braids. “You need to let me know if you are tired, okay?”

“Of course,” Anna smiles. Just as she feels another yawn coming, she quickly adds, “Should probably text them and let them know our ETA?”

“Oh, yes, you’re right.”

When Elsa’s occupied with the messaging, Anna smoothly turns away to let out that yawn.

* * *

But it’s getting really bad. Anna nearly falls asleep on the bed (she feels like she passed out for a good minute or two) while waiting for Elsa to take a shower. When it’s her turn, she for sure falls asleep in the shower _standing up._ Just leaning her head against the wall, letting the water run down her body. No big deal. Really, she doesn’t know how long she’s been in the shower until she hears a knock, to which she quickly gets out and tells Elsa that she’s just fascinated by the cute showerhead, the delightful, _colourful_ scents of the shampoo and bodywash, and the, uh, what other excuses does she have? Oh, the toilet!

“Toilet?” Elsa raises a brow.

Anna comes out of the bathroom, wringing her hair in a fresh towel. “Yeah! It plays music when you sit on it. Japanese inventions are crazy.”

Which is reassuring enough, because when Elsa observes the toilet herself, this genuine sense of amazement overwhelms her. Like she’s discovered some fifth-dimension, alien device that has the power to bend space and time. Or… maybe like she’s discovered an ancient Mesopotamian artifact. Oh! Or like she’s discovered the secret to the Krabby Patty formula—

Hold up. _Wait._

What is she even talking about anymore? Her analogies are getting increasingly nonsensical. Is this what being overly tired does to a person? It’s not even noon yet, and she’s already delirious. This is bad.

“We’ll head out after you dry your hair, okay?” Elsa emerges with a blow-dryer in hand. “Tadashi and Gogo said we are to take the JR Line from where we are to Harajuku. Apparently, that’s where new and old Japan collide.”

“What does that mean?” Anna takes the blow-dryer and finds the closest outlet near the bed.

“I think they mean where modern meets traditional? I am not too sure.”

“Hm.” Anna shrugs. She sits down, observes the device in her hand, struggling to comprehend what is _low_ and what is _high._ A chuckle sounds behind her, and before she knows it, Elsa has taken the blow-dryer from her. She’s urged to turn around so that the blonde can help her out with her hair. Anna gives Elsa a toothy grin, and then she leans back so that she’d rest on the older girl’s front.

For about ten-or-so minutes, as Elsa dries her hair out, Anna’s able to get a bit of shut-eye.

* * *

If there’s any saving grace to the heat, it’s the fact that it’s keeping Anna’s eyes open. On the one hand, the humidity is doing a good job making her feel icky all over the place; on the other hand, she would never be able to rest her eyes knowing that she is standing quite literally in a cloud of sweat, thereby giving her the chance to be acutely aware of how disgusting everything is. In short, she’s awake thanks to the heat. So, _thank you, heat._

Still, Anna has never experienced fatigue on this level. Calculating backwards, from the time that she woke up before her flight, she probably hasn’t slept for… let’s see. She woke up at seven in the morning feeling nothing but excitement, jumping all over the house to make sure everything’s in place, double-checking and then _triple-_ checking to see everything she needs is packed. The flight was at eleven in the evening—so that’s sixteen hours right there. Then comes the thirteen-hour flight; they landed approximately four hours ago, which brings her total hours of last sleeping to a grand total of thirty-three hours of being awake. Okay, no biggie. It’s kind of like an all-nighter, no? Not like Anna’s never pulled one of those before. It’ll be fine.

She pulls up her phone to check the time.

Assuming that they’ll be done hanging out with Tadashi and Gogo by dinner time, which should be about nine (eight if lucky) at night, that’s just— _hoo boy—_ another nine-ish hours to go.

So it’ll be forty-two (give or take) hours of no sleep. Right. It sounds intimidating as hell, but it’s a challenge Anna’s willing to take. Bring it on. As long as she doesn’t ruin the day for Elsa.

“Gogo, Tadashi!” The blonde suddenly says.

Anna sucks in a breath, turning towards the direction that Elsa is waving at. Takes some time, but Anna is eventually able to pick out the couple from the crowd. Harajuku sure is busy; she’d be sure to hold Elsa’s hand later so that she wouldn’t lose her.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favourite couple!” Tadashi gives them a cool two-finger salute. He’s ditched the hat and has put some effort to style his hair a little. Dressed appropriately for the season, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey shorts. Gogo, also well-prepared for the summer, has ditched the usual leather and has opted for a simple tank and a pair of shorts as well (though Anna wonders how it’s possible to be wearing full black under the blazing sun).

What amazes Anna even more, however, is the fact that the two look so comfortable despite the temperature. Meanwhile, she herself is about to melt into a pile of goo even if she is standing at the threshold of the train station, leeching off a bit of the AC. It’s probably an Asian thing.

“Hello, you two,” Elsa says, shyly—probably because of Tadashi’s statement.

“You guys doing okay? Thirteen hours of flying is no joke.” Gogo comments, observing Anna and Elsa with a quirked brow.

“Oh, I passed out early on during the flight and pretty much slept through the the entirety of it. Except for the meals. I woke up for those.” The blonde giggles.

Anna follows suit. It’s quite cute how Elsa is being enthusiastic about something as mundane as inflight meals. Though subtle, this confirms how excited she really is for the whole trip. “You really liked the inflight meals, didn’t you?” Anna teases.

A hint of pink spreads across Elsa’s cheeks. “What? They were good! I’ve always envisioned inflight meals to be soggy and gross, but what we had was gourmet-level.”

“Then you just have to take Japanese airlines more often, don’t you think? Our flights usually do have the better meals, not gonna lie,” Tadashi states confidently with a smirk, which earns him a nudge on his stomach from Gogo.

“What are you, the CEO of the airline?” Gogo frowns. 

“Hey! Just represent. Gotta show my patriotism, hello.”

Gogo gives him an eye-roll, but she’s smiling as she does. “Anyway,” she averts her attention back to the girls. “Speaking of food, you two hungry?”

They did get one more breakfast meal right before landing, but that was over five hours ago. Anna and Elsa look to each other, as if affirming what their answer should be. A smile and a nod later, Anna grins at Gogo, “We’re prepared to experience some authentic Japanese food!”

Tadashi jumps in, “Hey, don’t look at her! She’s Korean— _I’m_ the true local here!”

“Whoa. Sorry to offend you, Hamada-san,” Gogo raises her palms in the air in surrender, stating her apology in the most monotonous voice. It’s like she’s completely unfazed by the fact that her boyfriend is offended. Or, he’s not really offended; she just finds joy in teasing him. 

Which obviously is the case. Tadashi isn’t the type to get ticked off so easily, after all. “Okay, ladies!” he claps his hands, “Right this way. Follow the good-looking tall guy. My name is Tadashi Hamada, and I will be your tour guide for the day!”

The girls break into a soft chuckle as they eye each other humorously. _Guys will be guys,_ is probably what they’re all thinking. At least, that’s certainly what’s going through Anna’s head. Regardless, she takes Elsa’s hand and follows their tour guide, silently praying that wherever they’re headed serves coffee. 

* * *

The term ‘culture shock’ has never resonated with Anna.

Well, the fact that she’s never travelled to another country is probably a major factor, but, like.

“I-is it natural for Japanese people to have their hair dyed completely pink? Or, um, to be wearing the most gothic makeup _and_ outfit, like, ever? Oh, I’m not saying that they look bad, just…” Anna pauses, thinking by now she probably sounds like an ignorant foreigner.

In her defense, she can’t help it but to be curious, though. Because on their way to the restaurant, being surprised by the amount of people aside, this place really is the definition of ‘modern-meets-traditional’; these _cosplayers,_ if you will, are walking around as if they are the most natural beings in the world—as if they are dressed in the most basic outfits—then turn around, and there are people wearing these beautiful kimonos walking about! Literally a clash of two worlds. So can Anna really be blamed for being so overwhelmed?!

Tadashi chuckles. He rests his elbow on the table and his chin on his palm. “Only in Harajuku. And a bit of Akihabara, I guess. You don’t see these people often in other parts of Tokyo. At least, not that many.”

“I feel like I’m in a real-life anime. Or some alternate universe.”

“Or a Comic-Con.” Gogo shrugs.

“I’ve never been to one,” Anna comments. “I’m definitely intrigued now.”

“You’ll be studying in California this coming semester, right?” Tadashi asks. “San Diego has one of the largest conventions ever—Hiro had always whined to me about how much he wants to go.”

Anna lets out a nervous laugh. “I’ll be studying in California, yeah, but not that far down south.”

“Where will you be attending, anyway?”

Another hesitant laugh. Anna scratches her cheek with a finger. “Um, I… uh. Berkeley.”

“WHAT!”

“Whoa.”

“Holy shit, Anna! Good job.” Tadashi gives her a fist, to which Anna bumps with her own while wearing a faint blush. “Damn. Elsa, you never told us how incredible she was!”

Elsa smiles. She looks to Anna, an expression that can only be defined as admiration and pride fills her, and then she says, softly, as if speaking to herself, “Anna is more than incredible.”

_O-oh god._

Anna swallows. Her throat bobs. A head rush. Blood gushes so rapidly through her veins Anna thinks she can feel the flow. A flow as intense as the rapids of a river, running right within her. She can’t blame being tired this time, because this has nothing to do with fatigue; this is everything to do with the sheer amount of _awe_ that Elsa has for her. And—just. _Jeez._ How is she supposed to react to that?

She would never know, because the moment is interrupted by the waiter, giving them their order. True to his word, ‘Tadashi the Tour Guide’ made it all-inclusive; he ordered— _in his words—"_ the best of the best on the menu and in all of Harajuku”. Anna has to give it to him, though; he really is attentive. Tadashi actually figured that having taken a thirteen-hour flight, they probably won’t have the biggest appetite _._ Which is why they should ‘start light’, and that explains why they’re at this comfortable gig with AC and neat little wooden tables and benches. Calligraphic Japanese writings are carved on wooden plaques, and they hang elegantly along the walls, creating this beautiful, picturesque design. To put it simply, the place looks zen. Very calming.

As she busies herself observing the surroundings, Tadashi’s already ordered _somen,_ or ‘cold noodles’, where you’re supposed to dip them into a sauce of some sort.

“Perfect for the summer,” he grins as he demonstrates how it’s eaten.

Gogo, despite not being a local, insists that somen goes expertly with tempura, prompting Tadashi to nod to himself—perhaps in agreement, but it doesn’t seem like he wants to admit it (he has his tour guide reputation to keep, after all). And, no joke, as per the recommendation, this is probably one of the best _plain_ meal Anna’s ever had. Like, she’s not even hungry and she’s able to finish two servings—which doesn’t sound like much, but _holy crap!_

“Mmm, this is so good,” Anna closes her eyes, savouring the taste in her mouth. Goodness, the sauce is just as plain, but why is it that when everything is mixed together, it becomes so refreshing? Anna can’t contain her amazement. “Elsa, this is so good!”

“It really is,” the blonde dips her noodles into her bowl of sauce, and then she slurps everything up soundlessly—elegantly, like everything else that she does. “We should try doing this when we get back home.”

Then, one thing leads to another, and their tour guide ends up ordering a pitcher of beer?! During lunch! Because it’s hot and apparently beer goes well with tempura and… yeah, a bunch of other reasons. Anna, of course, says that she shouldn’t, and so she goes with a coke, thinking that it has caffeine and all and can most definitely replace coffee.

“They didn’t ask for your ID’s?” Anna states, bringing her soft drink in for a _cheers_ with the older kids. 

“It’s pretty lax around here, mostly because Japanese people follow regulations really well. You’d fit right in, Anna. But nobody’s gonna stop you if decide you want a glass.”

“Oh, no, I’m good.” She takes a sip from the straw. “I’ve drank before, and I don’t exactly have a high alcohol tolerance level.”

“Yes, you do,” Elsa says, playful with her tone. “Whenever we drink wine with your parents at dinner, you’re always the last one to turn red. You don’t even get tipsy.”

It’s not exactly an accomplishment or anything, and she isn’t even drinking right now, but still, perhaps because Elsa’s the one saying it (and therefore it sounds like a praise), Anna has a reason to turn red. “I just…” she tries to come up with something, “… must be because I’m the youngest?”

“Oh, please,” Gogo scoffs. “Has nothing to do with age. Anna, you’re a natural at drinking, aren’t you?”

She’s about to answer, but why does Gogo look so sinister with her smirk? Almost as if she’s planning for something…

“Okay, ladies,” Tadashi calls for everyone’s attention. “Our next destination is not far, but it can be quite a walk away,” Tadashi chugs the rest of his beer. “So, get ready, and make sure to leave nothing behind!”

Anna grabs her drink and tries to finish her coke while glancing at Gogo, who is _still_ eyeing her deviously. She scoots closer to Elsa to feel a bit safer.

* * *

Their self-proclaimed _tall_ and _good-looking_ tour guide takes them out of the quiet alleyway that houses the restaurant. He leads them through a series of streets, one of which called _Takeshita_ is crowded with so many people Anna actually imagines herself getting trampled if she didn’t hold onto Elsa’s hand. The blonde, of course, holds onto her protectively. It’s a strange feeling; Anna’s always the one taking care of her back at home, so to have their roles reversed is kind of… _hm._ New? It certainly isn’t uncomfortable.

“You think _this_ is a lot of people?” Tadashi laughs. He has to speak loudly with all the background noise. “Wait till you get to the Scramble at Shibuya. Or Kabukichou at night.”

Truth be told, even though she’s done so much research, Anna is horrible at names. She has absolutely no idea what the dude is going on about; perhaps if she referred to her notes, she would. Seriously. All this mumbo-jumbo makes her wish she actually went on YouTube to study up on some Japanese terminologies like she said she would.

And so, she follows along in silence, praying that the caffeine from her coke would last her for a few more hours. Once in a while, Anna would pinch her thigh to let the pain keep herself awake, but pain comes in spikes. She needs something stronger. Something that lasts. Maybe an ice coffee from one of those vending machines she keeps seeing? But if she buys coffee, Elsa would know. _Ugh,_ what a dilemma.

“Anna,” Elsa runs her thumb in circles on the younger girl’s hand that she’s holding onto as they walk. “Is everything okay? Is it too hot?”

No matter how tired, the sweetheart in Elsa would never fail to make her smile. Anna brings the blonde’s hand up and pecks a knuckle lightly. “It is, but I’m okay. How are you holding up?”

“I don’t mind the heat,” she answers, her gaze tender.

They eventually come to a gate— _torii_ is what Tadashi says it’s called, and it stands as an entrance that divides the mundane and the sacred. Indeed, on their side are people, standing in scattered, disorganized clusters. Tourists are taking pictures, doing weird poses, laughing, talking and whatnot. But beyond the gate is a flat, stone pathway, surrounded by nothing but trees that are stories tall. It creates a mystical effect, like a corridor of bright, green foliage, sunlight pouring through the cracks.

This feeling becomes more prominent as they step through the torii _,_ because immediately, the air becomes cooler, the humidity becomes less noticeable, and the overall environment is quiet, subdued. Everyone who is walking along the path seems to have this unspoken understanding—a shared sense of respect—like they really are walking into a realm of the sacred. And so, there is no need to talk, no need for unnecessary distractions.

It’s a soothing, beautiful feeling. One that makes Anna want to lean her head on Elsa’s as they walk. One that makes her want to close her eyes, not for the sake of sleeping, but for the sake of _breathing._

The pathway, however winding, leads to yet another torii _,_ but at the other end of it is a temple of sorts.

“ _Meiji Jingu,_ ” Tadashi says softly, “The Meiji Shrine. One of the most important shrines in all of Japan. Come here.”

They are led to some sort of well, where a fair number of people are drinking the water from these wooden scoops that come with long arms. Their tour guide explains that people aren’t really drinking from the well; the water is to ‘cleanse away the impurities prior to entering the shrine’. And so, in an orderly fashion, everyone awaits their turn, doing the deed with respect, without a sense of urgency.

“It does feel like an entirely new world in here, doesn’t it?” Elsa remarks as they wait for Gogo and Tadashi.

Anna breathes out with amusement. She grabs a packet of tissue from her pocket, taking one out to dab it lightly around Elsa’s lips. She’s smudged a bit of her lipstick with the water. “It does,” she says. “A whole new dimension. Like time moves differently in here.”

The trees, the cloudless blue sky, the sun, the sound of cicadas, and the faint smell of nature that surrounds them.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

Anna’s jaw flexes on instinct. She is inclined to agree. She also knows what the blonde means—the hidden meanings and all. “… We can always come back in the future.”

Elsa takes both her hands. They face each other, both wearing an expression that embodies commitment and determination.

“Whoa, you two. No over-the-top PDA at a shrine, please!”

Anna rolls her eyes playfully. “We weren’t about to do anything.”

But Elsa actually feels guilty. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know holding hands isn’t okay.”

“Elsa, it’s fine,” Gogo sighs. “Look what you’ve done, you dick!” Gogo elbows him on his side.

“Ow!”

“Apologize to Elsa, right now!”

“Okay, okay!” He tries to stand straight again, “I’m sorry!”

Albeit evil, the girls, and Elsa eventually, laugh to Tadashi’s pain. He’s exaggerating it, anyway.

“So, um. I hear there’s an area here where we can make wishes?” Elsa speaks up when everyone quiets down again.

“Oh, yeah,” Tadashi rubs at his side. “Right over there. You can buy a wooden board from the priestesses for… five hundred yen, I think? They’ll provide you a pen. Just write whatever you want and then hang it up along the display.”

“Got it. Thank you, Tadashi.”

Elsa drags Anna—yes, she _drags_ the redhead towards the vendor—and the latter is finding it increasingly amusing to have her girlfriend’s usually-calm demeanour crack.

“Didn’t know you were so superstitious.” Anna speaks quietly.

“It’s not about superstition,” Elsa mumbles through a pout. “This is important.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going ahead before the line gets too long, okay?”

Anna, yet again amused by her determination, just goes along with it. “Okay,” she laughs, and Elsa unhooks her arm from Anna’s. She walks forward, buying the small, wooden plaque from a woman sitting under the stall. Elsa makes her way to where the pens are and starts writing down whatever it is intently. Man, she looks as serious as she does before an exam. Or, at least, that’s what Anna assumes she’d look like before an exam.

Whatever the case, she takes the opportunity to let out secret-yawn number… thirty-four? Yeah, she’s lost count. Should occupy herself before she passes out on the spot. Maybe she should get one of those boards herself and wish for some good luck?

“One please,” Anna says to the same woman. She fishes out a bunch of coins from her pocket and picks out five one-hundred-yen coins. She is directed to where Elsa is still writing that exam of hers, and Anna has the idea to sneak up on her girlfriend.

… is what she would do if she weren’t so tired. Instead, she just walks up to her. “What are you writing?” she asks.

Elsa drops her pen. She picks up the little board and clutches it close to her heart. “Just the usual stuff. Good health and all.”

“Huh.” Anna nods. “Good idea.”

Elsa smiles. “I’m going to go hang this up.”

“Mhmm.” She’s already spinning the pen in her hand, thinking about what she can write in such a small amount of space.

 _Wishing for good fortune?_ No, that’s so boring.

 _I want to be rich?_ Alright, that’s just superficial as hell.

Just go with something natural, jeez! Anna taps the end of the pen on the table. Being tired never helps when it comes to thinking of important stuff. Luckily, though, on instinct, she does have one.

One that doesn’t require much thinking because it is the most natural thing to write.

When she’s done, she picks it up by the red string and heads over to the display. People are quite creative with their wishes; most of them are written in Japanese, but she does spot a few drawings here and there. The ones she can read are surprisingly heartfelt.

_Wishing the best to grandma on her recovery._

_I need to get into MED SCHOOL!_

_I will confess to her tomorrow! Give me luck, all the kami above!_

Anna giggles.

She stops, however, when she comes across one that says—

_I wish her all the love and happiness in the world._

The neat, cursive writing is unmistakably Elsa’s, and Anna is speechless. In that moment, her heart swells, like never before.

“Anna? Are you done yet?”

She doesn’t know how else to answer her than to smile. Anna reaches for Elsa’s hand, gripping it firm. She doesn’t want to let go, ever. “You dedicated an entire wish to me?”

Elsa blinks. She glances at the plaque but quickly averts her gaze. “I… I had no other wish to wish for.”

“What of yourself?” Anna takes a step closer. “Wouldn’t you want to have good luck for your upcoming internship?”

“That would be greedy of me, to ask for any more luck,” she says in a small voice.

Anna’s smile widens. “Why would you say that?”

“Well…” Elsa dips her head. She looks at their joined hands, a small smile forming. Then, she meets Anna’s eyes. “… because.” She finishes.

“Because?”

Elsa giggles, the crisp sound vibrates with Anna’s heartbeat and she can’t help but to laugh along. “S-stop it, Anna.”

She does as she is told. Mostly because they are at a sacred place and it’s not appropriate to be fooling around. When Anna pulls away, she swears she can see a hint of disappointment in Elsa’s eyes. But that can be her fatigue playing tricks on her. 

“You two done over there?” Comes Gogo’s voice.

“Come on, ladies! This tour is moving onto the next destination! Don’t wanna get left behind!”

“We’ll be right there,” Elsa responds. “Come on, Anna. You ready?”

“Wait, wait, let me just…” she hangs her plaque up, right beside Elsa’s.

The blonde, seeing it, hitches her breath. Anna can actually hear her do it.

_My wish is to have ALLLLL her wishes come true! For her to be the happiest person in the entire universe! For her to be loved loved LOOOOVED by everyone she knows!_

“Anna…”

She suppresses a laugh. It does look kind of ridiculous when it’s placed next to Elsa’s neater, much cleaner wooden plaque. “Too much?”

The most joyous giggle returns. “This is… you put down three wishes…”

“Well,” Anna defends, “nobody said there was a limit.”

“And you made your writing all squishy.”

“Couldn’t fit everything, otherwise.”

“The ink is smudged here.”

“Makes it stand out! The _kami_ will for sure read mine first.”

Elsa shakes her head while not-so-successfully hiding that adorable lopsided grin of hers. “You really are insufferable.”

Anna nods. “I really am, but only ever for you.”

“You dork.” Elsa blushes.

She wants to retort, but all Anna can do is get _booped_ on the nose before being promptly dragged to rejoin Gogo and Tadashi.

 _Oh, she’ll get Elsa later,_ she thinks with a smirk. But when she yawns again, she remembers to add, _maybe when she’s not in desperate need of some rest._

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, the tourist-couple is led around by the tour-guide-couple. Perhaps blessed with a bit of luck from the Meiji Shrine, they end up at a café, where Anna can _finally_ order a triple-quadruple-quintuple- _sextuple_ espresso shot (ordering it took some time though—when she plugged her order into a translator for the clerk, she gave her a very polite _are-you-serious_ look but proceeded to do so after Anna accidentally let out another elegant yawn).

But it’s not just any café they’re visiting. No, no, no. Not with these tour guides.

They’re at a freaking _Mameshiba_ Café. As in, a dog café. Where dogs roam freely around in one room and customers can have their cakes and coffees in the other! And not just any dogs. True to its namesake, the only breed here is Shiba Inu…!

_Ugh. Her little heart._

Seeing these adorable little creatures, some donned in cute dog-kimonos, dressed like samurais! Some with these cute scarves— _it’s too much._ Anna might spontaneously combust. But as she averts her gaze to avoid explosion, she sees Elsa, cuddling a pure white Shiba as it licks her cheek affectionately.

Oh god. Too cute.

Anna has to physically hold onto her heart. Or, just. Place a hand over her chest. It’s pounding so hard. Her heart. Must be the espresso. Jesus. She really is getting delirious.

“Anna, Anna!”

The way she calls her is cute too, but does she really have to say it at this point?

“Look at this one! He’s adorable. Oh, I—” she’s interrupted by more kisses from the dog, and then she’s caught in a fit of giggles. Anna doesn’t even have the capacity to feel jealous. Not because she’s too tired this time, but because it’s way. Too. Fucking. Cute.

“He likes you,” Anna comments, getting down on the floor next to Elsa.

“He really does!” Her laughter is rich, bubbly. _Music._ “Can we get one?”

She sputters, nearly choking on her own spit as she laughs.

“I’m serious!” Elsa says. She adjusts, now cradling the little Shiba in her arms like it’s a newborn baby. He’s strangely calm in the new position. “I’ve always wanted a dog.” She bites her lip; her voice softens, and she scratches the Shiba’s snout gently. “I begged my parents every year on my birthday, but you know them. Always travelling. They didn’t trust me to care for it on my own while they’re away.”

Anna leans over, resting her chin on Elsa’s shoulder. She turns so that she’d hide in the crook of her neck, right in that soft braid of hers. “Okay. Let’s get three,” she whispers.

“Three?” Elsa gives her a timid, albeit genuine chuckle.

Anna nods. She reaches to rub the Shiba’s belly. He sticks out his tongue, panting in approval. “Adopted. All three of them, because so many are abandoned. I want to give them a home.”

“You’re thinking far ahead, aren’t you?”

It’s settled, then.

From the Mameshiba Café, Anna has learned that Elsa is a dog person, which isn’t much of a surprise, to be honest. She may seem like a cat person at first glance, but the girl is softer and perhaps more playful than the Shiba in her arms.

* * *

From the Omotesando Plaza, as they are ascending the escalator through the trippy, kaleidoscope-like mirrored tunnel, Anna learns that even this mall by local standards “sucks” (Tadashi’s words, not hers), it is a sin to not take a selfie here. With reluctance, the girls are instructed to take the escalator back down. Tadashi and Gogo stand a step below them, and very smoothly, their tour guide takes out his phone, flips the camera like a professional—

“Say _Tokyooo!_ ”

Of course, only Anna and Elsa are kind enough to entertain him. Gogo was having none of it. The picture comes out solidly, though. Really cute stuff. Four heads, in the middle of a tunnel that seriously gives the optical illusion of a kaleidoscopic effect.

“Hiro is going to be so pissed off when he sees this.” Tadashi chuckles. “What he wouldn’t give to hang out with Elsa for a day.”

Hearing that somehow makes Anna feel a bit more awake. Like she’s invigorated by those words for whatever reason. Must be the fatigue. Definitely not the jealousy. _Nope._ Stop being a little baby, _Anna!_

But no matter how much she wants to blame exhaustion, there is a point that she’s gotten so tired that she doesn’t even have the strength to think of anything than to close her eyes.

No joke.

As they line up to be seated in this cozy _izakaya,_ or a… what is Tadashi saying? A mini-Japanese bar that serves snacks? Kind of like a pub? Doesn’t matter. As they line up, Anna thinks she’s fallen asleep several times with her eyes opened.

O-P-E-N-E-D.

That is some creepy shit right there.

The six-shot espresso has long lost its effect, so Anna really is running on fumes. She takes every opportunity to ‘nap’ a little. Yes, yes—with her eyes opened. Whatever, okay?! She’s desperate. The older kids are occupied with their conversation on the upcoming courses, so it’s okay. Anna’s a light sleeper, so when Elsa nudges her a little, she comes right back, stating that she’s intrigued by the colourful drinks in the vending machines across the street. Her biggest fear right now is that her cover will be blown as soon as she sits down, because she may quite possibly lose consciousness and slam her head onto the bar but _holy shit—_ what is this amazing smell?!

The bar truly is cozy. The door is one of those automatic sliding ones as they are in every single store they’ve entered thus far, but what makes this place different is the fact that it only holds around ten customers. The chef is at the centre, cooking right in front of everyone, and in front of each person are these cute, rectangular serving plates.

Right then, the chef brings out two skewers—two _squids!_ Holy crap, that’s huge! It’s grilled to a golden brown, its juices streaming delightfully out of the tiny cracks. The smell reaches Anna’s senses, and she thinks passing out can wait. She really needs one of those in her stomach right now.

Thank goodness for Tadashi, though, because without him, they would never have stumbled upon this place. Even if they did, they would have no idea what to order because everything is in freaking Japanese. The chef doesn’t speak a lick of English!

“Only locals would know how to find these gems, my friends,” he winks.

The food arrives quicker than any restaurant Anna’s ever been to. She likes to believe that it’s because the chef can see how much her mouth is watering, and so he really is just taking pity on her. Also, can she just say? As gross as it sounds, she did not know how delicious intestines can be. Chicken gizzards, hearts, and then the simple stuff like quail eggs wrapped in thin bacon strips. Even the vegetables! Eggplant, zucchini, and, like— _god damn it,_ why is everything so good? She can honestly cry if she could have this every day. If only they can have this back at home.

“But they do,” their tour guide says as he downs the rest of his beer. “You just gotta dig deep.”

“You have got to take us there when we head back, Tadashi,” Elsa says, who is also finishing the rest of her beer.

Save for that time at the Christmas party, Anna has never seen Elsa drink beer. Granted, the blonde looks way too elegant to be matched with a beer bottle, and that’s just Anna stereotyping, what she really means is… _oh_. Oh lord. She forgot. Oh no. It’s hitting her again. Another yawn. _Ahh—_ can’t fight it this time. Hide! _Cover your mouth!_

“So! As I was saying!” Gogo slams her hand on the table, making the entire table shake. Even the customers at the other end are taken aback. The chef himself gives the girl a look. “Now that we got pre-drinking out of the way, you guys ready for the real game?”

Huh?

Tadashi chuckles. “Gogo wasn’t joking when she said that it’s going to get wild with us.”

“Guys… I’m still concerned about Anna. She’s underage, and you’re not seriously—”

“Ah-ah-ah, Elsa,” the other girl raises a finger. “Using a fake ID here in Japan can have some severe consequences. You don’t really think we’re going to ruin Anna’s future like that, do you?”

“No, but…”

“Exactly.” Tadashi joins back in. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry. I could get Hiro in if I wanted to. Places like those aren’t filled with bad guys as movies depict them, you know? Especially the establishments here. They’re all quite tamed.”

Wait. What are they talking about? Anna wants to intervene, but these guys are talking too fast and her head is spinning and spinning and she just wants to sleep.

“But Anna looks way too young. Wouldn’t it be suspicious?” Elsa asks sheepishly. She turns to look at the girl in question.

“Hn. You’re right about that.” Gogo strokes her chin. “Anna, let down your braids, will you?”

She does as she is told, releasing the bands and then shaking out her hair.

“Damn girl. Looking fierce.” Tadashi has the most good-boy voice ever, so his attempt to flirt just now made him sound more silly than anything.

“Um.” Anna starts, finally seeing the chance to speak. “What’s happening?”

The three of the older kids eye her like she’s said the stupidest thing ever. Elsa’s a bit nicer though; she actually takes her hand and comes a bit closer. “Anna, we’re going to a nightclub.”

She blinks. “What…?”

“We were talking about it throughout the meal! Where have you been?”

“She definitely was here,” Gogo says. “I mean, you were agreeing to everything.”

“I-I was?”

“Anna, are you okay? You’re tired, aren’t you? How about we just—”

“No! No, no, no! I’m not tired!” She sits straighter. “Not one bit. I’m just… excited. Y’know? Never been clubbing!”

While the other couple is convinced, Elsa is nowhere near it. She scoots even closer. “Hey, it’s okay if you’re tired. We can go another time.”

At that, Anna breaks into a small smile. It’s quite easy to read Elsa sometimes. There is no deny that Elsa wants to go based on how she worded that statement. Anna reaches up to fix the blonde’s hair, setting a few fallen strands back in place. “You know I’d do anything that you would like, Elsa. But…” she softens her voice, “… really? You’re okay with a nightclub? It’s going to be loud and there will be a lot of people.”

The corners of Elsa’s lips twitch up. She, too, starts fixing Anna’s hair, straightening the frizzes as much as she can. “I just want to do everything with you,” she says in a whisper, so only Anna can hear. “Tadashi and Gogo are trustworthy, so if anything bad happens, at least we have them, right?”

Yes. Very, very logical. What meaning is there to life if they don’t do something adventurous? Truth be told, if Anna weren’t on the brink of death, she would say yes without hesitation. Okay, well, she would get Elsa’s approval before saying yes without hesitation. Point is, clubbing has always been one of those distant dreams of hers. She’s always imagined her first venue to be at some shitty, run-down club with equally shitty DJs and people. She would think that her first time would be done out of spite with college friends. So, to have this golden opportunity to go clubbing with trustworthy people _and_ her girlfriend?

She’d be an idiot to say no.

“You’re right,” Anna nods. “Let’s do it, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: if i were your tour guide, i would bring you to the exact places mentioned in this chapter, in that order. as for the animal cafe, i'd let you choose between dog, cat, owl/bird, snake, bunny, hedgehog, or penguin and take you there ;)


	28. Chapter 28

There’s something about Tokyo at night that makes it so distinct from the morning. The city in itself is filled with life in the morning, yet, somehow, the nightlife takes that concept and dials it up to eleven. People are more energetic, and, if it were even possible, the crowds are denser—as if daylight were more subdued, whereas night is the time when everything in hiding emerges. Unlike back at home, there appears to be more young people out at night _._ There also seems to be a lot of street performances—ranging from musicians, dancers, and even a mix of both. In the sea of people, everything here just seems so vast and endless. If Anna were to compare, Tokyo reminds her of the photographs that she’s seen of New York, except she knows for a fact that it’s much cleaner and organized here. At the very least, she has yet to see a single piece of garbage on the floor.

It helps that Shibuya, the district next to Harajuku in which their tour-guide-couple has brought them to, consists of such colourful signs—starting from the streets that climb all the way up to the top of the buildings. And, oh, how there are so many of them.

The gigantic TV screens on the buildings, the over-the-top, flashy billboards—everything is so extreme.

Anna holds Elsa’s hand as they make their way through the Crossing, lost within the hordes of people who are scrambling to get to the other side. She spots some standing blatantly in the middle of the crosswalk, taking photos. Some are posing; some, more creatively, are dancing in that small span of several minutes. Definitely tourists. Probably going to post the video on TikTok or somewhere pointless like that. It truly is a sight to behold. And as they cross, Anna is warped to a whole new world; the lights on the windows of the buildings, the streets, and even the immaculate white paint on the roads—colourful, bright, vibrant. Everything that surrounds her exists to highlight the very definition of _life_ in the city.

It almost makes Anna forget how tired she is.

“This is amazing,” she says to herself.

But Elsa catches on. The grip on her hand becomes firm. “Yes, it is. I’ve never seen this many people in one place, ever. It’s slightly overwhelming.”

She smiles. “You sure you can handle a nightclub, then?”

“You’ll be there with me, right?” Elsa’s own smile reaches her eyes. The very representation of life sparkles in the deep pools of cerulean as she wraps both arms around Anna’s. “Then I think I can.”

You know that feeling when you are so hungry that you are no longer hungry anymore? Right now, Anna thinks that there is a version for being tired. Make no mistake; Anna is, indeed, _super-ultra-giga-eccentrically_ compromised by her own tiredness, but the need to yawn, the soreness in her ankles, the heaviness in her eyelids are long gone. Some part of her brain registers this as the final bout of her adrenaline, pushing her body on hyperdrive to work through the last of these hours, but another part of her believes that she is successfully staying awake because the thought of being with Elsa is enough to power her for _years_ to come. This is not to say that Anna isn’t tired, though. Seriously, give her a bed right now, and she is fully capable of passing out on the spot. But she soldiers on—for she’s come this far.

Thank god the nightclub they are brought to is less than a few minutes from the station. All that walking from today is no joke. Lucky for them, according to Tadashi, the nightclubs at Shibuya are much more casual, and so the dress code isn’t all that strict. Meaning sneakers, shorts, t-shirts are appropriate enough for entry. Imagine if she wore heels today? _Yeesh,_ Anna does not want to think about that.

Elsa, on the other hand, is the embodiment of haute couture, and so it is only natural that even in something as simple as a one-piece summer dress along with those plain flats, she does not fail to look like a deity, fallen from the heavens. Ergo, whatever Elsa chooses to wear would end up being classy and elegant, whether it is her intention or not.

Which naturally begs the question: can this be a problem?

Yes, Anna is well aware of the fact that at a nightclub, such a quality can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, she is freaking excited to show this deity off to the world—to let them know that Elsa belongs to _her_. But, on the other hand, this deity will without a doubt attract a lot of unwanted attention. Call her paranoid (or delirious—whatever, they’re the same at this point) Anna isn’t careful, Elsa might just get snatched away.

That’s it. Anna will pledge herself to Elsa tonight. Guard the blonde with her life. Never allow her eyes to leave her. _Ooh,_ she will be the best bodyguard that ever body-guarded in the existence of this planet! Anna wraps an arm around Elsa’s waist, the very action making the latter yelp in surprise, and when Anna looks, Elsa is giving her this nervous yet sweet, hesitant yet endearing smile. If they weren’t in public, and if Elsa were a tad less shy, Anna would kiss her, right then and there.

“Yama, my dude!” Tadashi calls, waving at some… _holy crap!_ Is that a sumo wrestler?! Whatever—there’s a real-life sumo wrestler, standing at the entrance of some extravagant-looking building that’s—much like the rest of the structures in Shibuya—decorated with vibrant, flashing signs. The dude’s just standing there, clad in a deep navy-blue tracksuit with yellow stripes, arms crossed, wearing a deep frown. Jeez, he looks intimidating without even trying. Anna’s a bit scared that if Tadashi’s mistaken him for the wrong person, he might just get punched in the face.

Fortunately, no such scenario occurs. The frown becomes a friendly grin in an instant (it’s the eyebrows. It has to be. They’re so… expressive), and the sumo wrestler has spread his arms.

“Oi, Tadashi—” the next part is said in Japanese, and then he crushes the boy in question into his arms, lifting him up through the hug, and laughter ensures.

“ _Oof,_ god—Yama… I’m gonna die!”

More laughter, more Japanese; Anna understands it as ‘sorry, sorry’, and then she’s lost. The two guys are seemingly having a reunion of some sort, whereas the girls stand awkwardly at what appears to be the front of the line. Anna and Elsa are careful to avoid eye contact with the patrons, because these people definitely look like they’ve been waiting for a long time. Yet, here they are, about to cut in or something.

“It’s fine,” Gogo has read their mind. She explains nonchalantly, “Yama’s dad owns the club,” she lowers her voice while looking at the long line from the entrance. “Which is exactly how we’re gonna get ahead of everyone else.”

The tourist-couple blinks at Gogo and then at each other.

“Um,” Anna starts. “Are you sure that’s okay?”

Elsa nods nervously. “Isn’t that kind of unfair? These people have been waiting in line, and we’ve only just arrived…”

Their answer comes on cue, with Tadashi gesturing for them to enter the club. “Girls, girls! Let’s go! Yama’s got us a VIP booth!”

“An actual table at a nightclub? Isn’t that, like, really expensive?” Out of curiosity, Anna did research into this before going on the trip. Well, not this club specifically, but she did do her research. For future reference and all. From what she remembers, private tables can get quite hefty in price, so to have a _VIP_ booth…?

She has no time _or_ room for an answer. Literally. The corridor they walk through is tiny and dark. She and Elsa are clinging onto each other with their dear life while following Gogo and Tadashi ahead of them, praying silently that they wouldn’t get lost. But the deeper they venture, the heavier the bass of the loud, electronic music rumbles the floor; if Anna didn’t know any better, she would think that there is an earthquake. Those are common in Japan, right?

They enter the main venue, where beams of light— _lasers—_ flash in sync with the beat of the music. The dancefloor is a stage of lights, crowded with a bunch of people jumping to the rhythm of the music. A DJ stands at the elevated centre, his head bobbing along with the sound, and on each of his sides are an extended stage where… _erm,_ several incredibly sexy (she glances at Elsa beside her to hope that the girl didn’t hear her thoughts—because Anna’s totally not checking other girls out. Nope. She needs to clarify) dancers, wearing these extremely sexy outfits that reveal pretty much everything and… um. _Whew._ Whatever they’re doing, whatever their dance is called, it’s erotic as hell.

“Up here!” Tadashi shouts through the music.

The girls follow along, heading up a flight of stairs that lead to a, thankfully, much less crowded area overlooking the entirety of the floor below. It’s a simple lounge with several private booths and a bar at the corner. Yama directs them to a table and spurts on enthusiastically about something in Japanese again, but Anna’s already taken her seat on the beautiful leather sofa alongside Elsa and Gogo. Tadashi, when finally done conversing with Yama, sits down next to his girlfriend, wrapping an arm over her.

“Alright, ladies,” he grins. “I’m about to show you how the Japanese party.”

Gogo scoffs. “He thinks they’re so badass. Next time you two come to Korea, I’ll show you how the Koreans do it. There is absolutely no way you will return home remembering what has happened the night before.”

Elsa’s grip around Anna’s arm tightens a little, which prompts the latter to speak up in both their places. “I, uh… I’m not sure that’s something I want to try.”

“Of course, I mean that sarcastically,” Gogo gives them an eye-roll. “Do you really think we’re that irresponsible? We’ll get you home, safe, but you won’t remember how or when it happened.”

There is a loud _gulp._ Anna thinks it came from herself, but she turns and sees Elsa’s throat bob right at that moment. Oh boy. What have they gotten themselves into?

“Anna, if it gets too much,” Elsa starts, “Let me know, okay?” She does an attempt-glare at her friends, but of course it ends up making her look adorable—though Anna will never say this in front of others. “I’m sure Gogo and Tadashi aren’t going to do anything that would endanger our lives.”

And yes. That was a warning. As innocent and neutral sounding it came out, Anna is positive that is Elsa’s way of being protective. Her cute demeanour and the way she presents herself is anything but threatening, though, so Tadashi and Gogo are not intimidated in any way.

“It’ll be okay, Elsa,” Anna assures. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Right then, a cute Japanese girl in a tiny skirt comes to their table with a tray whilst saying something in the sweetest voice ever, and Anna’s eyes bulge at what is being placed on the table.

“Um,” she starts, trying her utter best not to freak out. “What is this?”

“Shots, dear child.” Comes Tadashi’s direct response. He starts aligning the larger glasses together in a single row, while Gogo moves the smaller ones out of his way.

“Yeah, I know, _Uncle Tadashi._ ” Anna states, observing the couple’s actions warily. “But why are they so colourful? What’s in them? And why are there so many?”

Tadashi and Gogo raise their heads, grinning in the most mischievous way that it’s almost comedic—like they’re the villains of your typical cartoon who are scheming together for some grand plan to overthrow the heroes of the story. They don’t respond, however; they just keep wearing that evil look of theirs and continue their _schemes._ The smaller shot glasses—the ones that Anna sees are more colourful—are placed atop the rims of the larger glasses in a delicate balance. The slightest nudge would tip everything over, and the smaller shots would fall into the larger ones.

“W-we’re starting with bomb shots?” Elsa speaks up.

There is a small moment where Anna becomes amazed that the blonde actually knows what is going on, but then she remembers that Elsa is in college, has likely been to several parties (she did mention that she went to more than one of those student-hosted parties in the past), and so it wouldn’t be that unnatural to know the term to this… whatever _this_ is.

“They’re just fruit sake. Nothing too heavy.”

“But there are so many!”

Tadashi smirks as he finishes placing the last of the glass down. He has now formed a train of, _what—_ at least twenty?—of these colourful glasses together. One tip and the smaller ones standing at the rims would create a domino effect, falling into the larger glass they are placed over. Then, at the corner of the table, there stands one shot glass that is completely clear, and it resembles water. It’s weird to have _just water_ sit out, so Anna doesn’t pay much attention to it. She has more colourful things to worry about.

“Not like we’re making you two drink all of them on your own,” Gogo chuckles. She turns to the redhead. “Here, Anna. Since it’s your first time, would you care to do the honours?”

She blinks. “What am I doing?”

“Literally dominos,” Tadashi says. “Knock it down from here. C’mon.”

Not that she couldn’t figure it out on her own, but Anna’s at a point where she just wants to confirm everything at least once to make sure she’s not hallucinating. God. It’s taking a toll on of her to even make the effort to blink. “So, I just…” she pushes the outermost smaller shot a little, it tilts to the side, and just as Tadashi states—literally dominos. The smaller shot glasses fall into the larger ones, and the colourful drinks start to sizzle at the mix. “Whoa!”

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s was—” she turns to shake Elsa’s arm, “—did you see that?”

The blonde giggles, more so at Anna than anything, and she is well aware of that. “Yes, I did. That was quite spectacular.”

“Can we do it again?”

The older kids eye each other in surprise, in silence, as if Anna’s said something wrong. Which, she probably did, being near-dead and everything. Because—

They burst out laughing. Elsa, on the other hand, just face-palms.

— _yep,_ she’s definitely said something stupid.

“How ‘bout we finish these,” Tadashi pushes five glasses towards her, all still sizzling loudly, despite the booming music in the background, “before you decide to order anything else?”

“Tadashi, it’s Anna’s first time drinking this much—”

“Don’t worry, Elsa,” he smiles. “I promise it’s nothing painful. Nothing at all like the crappy gin and vodka we had up on the mountain during Christmas. This is the good stuff.”

As her girlfriend tries to ensure her safety, Anna herself is sniffing a glass. She smells melon? Yogurt? Kinda like ice-cream. From what she can tell, it’s not unappealing in the slightest.

“Did I mention that the last one to down all their shots has to take that?” Tadashi eyes the one, lonely, clear liquid sitting at the corner of the table.

“What is it?” Elsa asks with concern as she, too, picks up a sizzling drink in preparation.

“Let’s just say,” Tadashi picks up his drinks, one in each hand. “You do _not_ want to touch it.” He clears his throat. “You girls ready? We’re going! You ready?! Alright, _onetwothreeGO—”_

“Wait, what?”

He and Gogo are already at it, throwing their heads back at each shot that they down. They’re already on their second and… and Anna hasn’t even started! She sees at the corner of her eyes that Elsa is hesitantly doing it, but, Elsa being Elsa, she soon picks up the pace because she does _not_ half-ass anything.

And neither does Anna. She is _freaking MVP!_

Yes, she is well aware that basketball has absolutely no correlation with drinking games, but. Games are games. She huffs, picks up the drinks in lightning speed and tosses the contents into her mouth. She does it so quickly that she can barely taste anything. Barely feel the burn. And like the MVP that she is, Anna _does_ manage to catch up, and, miraculously, she _does_ finish before everyone else. The triumphant joy of coming out as the victor hits her for a millisecond, but as she assesses the table, she sees that Elsa is severely behind.

What comes after is a natural reaction. Without thinking, she grabs the last of the blonde’s drinks and takes them for her. The liquids pour down her throat, and by now, Anna can definitely feel the burn (and then some), but she distracts herself by focusing on the taste.

Passion fruit. Strawberry _._ Oh god oh god she’s starting to taste the _alcohol and it hurts…!_

“Holy shit!” Tadashi laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Holy _shit!_ Anna!”

She swallows the last of it down and gags a little.

Elsa, to her credit, starts brushing Anna’s back. Then, in a low voice, she says to her, “Anna, you didn’t have to do that…”

Anna shakes her head, feigning immunity. “We’re not losing to them,” she forces a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gogo rests her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t aware that we were competing in teams.”

“I guess we are now.” Tadashi says with an amused chuckle. “In any case,” he slides the lonely clear shot to Elsa. “It is only fair that you take this for your heroic princess, yes?”

Again, Anna doesn’t think twice. _Nobody’s hurting Elsa tonight!_ She reaches for it, and just as the tips of her fingers brush along the glass, Elsa—in a speed she has never shown, snatches it away and doesn’t hesitate to chug it in one gulp.

“You girls are crazy!” Tadashi applauses for them. “I’ve never— _no._ We are not stopping here— _sumimasen!”_ he calls to the bar.

“Elsa,” it’s Anna’s turn to be concerned. She scoots over, resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “Are you okay? I-is it bad?”

Elsa’s just covering her mouth, blinking away tears. Takes a moment, and then she sits up straight. “Anna,” she rasps.

“Yes?”

For a second, Elsa’s blue eyes flash. A spark of determination. And in that second alone, Elsa has never looked so fierce.

Anna swallows. T-that was actually kind of hot.

The rims of Elsa’s cerulean eyes sharpen. “I do _not_ want to drink that again.” Her glare returns, and it is directed at their opponents across the table. “We are winning this.”

The redhead gnaws at her bottom lip, holding back a grin that may or may not be forming as a result of witnessing Elsa’s unnecessarily competitive side for the first time. “Okay,” Anna says, cracking the knuckles of a hand with just her thumb. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Anna’s never been drunk before. Being such a responsible person, she only ever drinks if she were given permission. Occasions would include having wine with her parents if they allowed it, or… well, those are the only times she has ever had alcohol, really. She may have had beer at house parties once or twice, but that’s about it. She doesn’t hang out around enough rowdy people to experience anything too extreme.

So believe her when she says that she is feeling _hella_ tipsy right now.

No, she’s not mistaking it as fatigue. She would know by now what the difference is. After all, she has been suffering from it for the past forty-or-so hours. This, she knows, is one-hundred-percent _tipsy._ Perhaps even more than tipsy.

Because why else would she be so energetic? Why else would she be jumping alongside everyone on the dancefloor? She rationalizes that this is her trying to stay awake, but _oh,_ who is she kidding at this point? The surge of energy rushing in her veins is beyond anything she’s felt; if she knew that alcohol could have this effect on her, then she would’ve started younger. Take several shots before every basketball game, before every freaking test! Hell, it’s no wonder they call it liquid courage. God, alcohol is the freaking best. She loves it. She wishes this effect is permanent. The need to express this love—it’s precisely why she can’t stop moving. Does that make her a _happy-drunk?_ It probably does.

You know who else is a happy drunk?

Don’t answer that. Anna will say it herself.

On the dancefloor, in this crowd of sweaty bodies, Anna grabs the blonde’s hands, spinning her in and out of her arms as if she were some waltz professional. When the beat of the music slows down, Anna would hold Elsa by the hips, molding their bodies together and they would just _sway_ in perfect synchronization _._ She likes to believe that they look sexy as hell, but truth is, she has absolutely no idea what she’s doing—she doesn’t even know how to dance.

There is simply this need to jump and squeal and laugh like nothing in the world matters. She’s never had so much fun while feeling so ridiculous. It has never occurred to her how good _ridiculous_ feels.

Elsa’s probably thinking the same thing, because to see her lose all inhibition and to dance like this, to move her body as beautifully as any of those dancers up on the stage—Anna is at a trance. The way her girlfriend’s arms are wrapped loosely around her neck, how the tips of their nose are touching, and how they are so close. How, if Anna so as much leans forward, they can kiss—

“ _Ah-ah-ah.”_ Elsa pulls back.

Through her hazy vision, Anna is at the very least aware of the fact that this is the first time that Elsa’s ever rejected her. Actually, this is teasing, isn’t it? She thinks so because… because is Elsa _smirking?!_

An arched corner of deep pink, luscious lips. Yes, indeed. Elsa is smirking.

She is _totally_ teasing.

Anna forgets how to breathe. Her heart skips a beat. Her mouth runs dry.

Elsa turns in their embrace, comes back in so her bottom would grind against Anna’s crotch, and as inexperienced as she knows the blonde is, somehow, these movements are anything _but._ Elsa’s body moves in elegance—in a way that those dancers up there would never dream of matching against. But unlike those dancers, Elsa is hers and hers _alone._ Elsa’s dance is for Anna alone to experience; it is for Anna alone to watch, to appreciate, to worship. Which is why she has every right to reciprocate. Which is why Anna _thrashes._ She jolts forward, molding their bodies impossibly closer, and she swears she can hear Elsa moan through all the noise.

Her fingers dig into the blonde’s hips with the purpose of keeping her in place. All this teasing is pushing Anna to the edge, as she had no idea that Elsa is so good at whatever _this_ is. Jesus. If only they were not in public, if only weren’t Anna desperately clinging onto the hint of sobriety left in her, she would have found some secluded corner in the club and would be taking Elsa against the wall. 

But Elsa doesn’t care. It’s almost like she _wants_ Anna to take her _._ Because— _god, fuck—_ there is no end to this. No end to Elsa’s provocative movements, to her grinding, to the white-hot sensation of her bottom thrashing against Anna. Again. Again. _Again._ A frantic, uncharacteristically aggressive plea from her beautiful, shy, sweet Elsa.

What, then, could come from this? Anna groans. A pressure builds in the pit of her stomach and Anna has to hide her face in Elsa’s shoulder to stop herself from losing control in the middle of a dancefloor. It is around the same time that she is hit by an epiphany and has figured out that _yes,_ Elsa is most definitely getting a kick out of this. Unpredictable as she is, Elsa’s likely wearing the same smirk, thinking that she’s prevailed and is taking control over this dance.

But has she not learned that Anna doesn’t like to lose?

If she didn’t know that before, then she should have figured it out from the drinking games that they’ve just had with Gogo and Tadashi (who are passed out on the sofa in the lounge, by the way). Anna bares her teeth, responding in kind by rolling forward as she keeps Elsa’s hips in place. The blonde tosses her head back, and if the bass didn’t suddenly drop—if the music and the crowd didn’t suddenly coincide together in a loud roar, Anna is certain that she would’ve heard a broken cry from Elsa.

_One-zero Anna._

That is, if they’re counting the score, starting now. Because, _um,_ if they’re counting from earlier, then Anna’s pretty sure that it’s at an even _two-two._ But, anyway. Doesn’t matter. They’re not playing for real.

The music speeds up. The number of people surrounding them continues to increase. There is so much movement going on that Anna thinks the floor is shaking. And Elsa, too, is moving—her body slides up and down, _up and down,_ literally grinding—she isn’t even being subtle anymore, and Anna’s knees quiver at the scandalous thought of what the _hell_ they’re doing. The idea of Elsa’s ass fitting perfectly into her own curves, how the pressure from both their movements builds up the heat both outside and _inside_ of her, Anna knows clenching her jaws alone isn’t going to suppress the moan. She latches her teeth onto the junction where Elsa’s neck and shoulder meet, and she _bites._

Why, _of course_ it makes Elsa yelp. Of course it draws the attention of a few people in the crowd, but the couple is far too occupied to care. As Elsa continues to grind, Anna continues to thrust. An endless struggle, an endless stride to win something that is wholly minuscule, yet, in that moment, it means everything to them.

With every ounce of her willpower, Anna fights the need to slip her hand down her girlfriend’s thigh to take this to a new height. Call her stubborn, but if Elsa isn’t using hands, then neither is she. She’s competitive, yeah, but she plays fair (at least, she thinks she does). So, instead, she puts her back to it—thrusting, bucking her hips _,_ and she herself is moaning into Elsa’s neck because everything is so hot, so loud, so _close._ Without hands, they’re unable to reach the sensations that they are craving for; without hands, they can only move faster, harder _, more._ And it’s interminably frustrating because it hurts, but at the same time, it feels so _good._

Anna releases Elsa from her teeth, drawing back slightly only to lap at the reddened marks, and she licks her way up the blonde’s neck, all the way to the shell of her ear. She does all of this without losing concentration on her lower body. There is a competition to win, after all.

“ _Anna…”_

Alright, no. _Nope._ She bares her teeth gain. Elsa’s voice. Her one weakness. Especially when she moans. _Oh, god._

“Saying my name like that.” She mumbles into Elsa’s ear as arousal coils in her belly. “That’s cheating.”

Elsa responds by grinding harder.

Anna hisses.

Perhaps it is due to their current, so-obviously-turned-on state, but the music has become louder, the crowd denser, and the lights flashier. All their senses are heightened, like the nightclub itself is encouraging them to go on, do it more, do it louder _,_ just freaking _do it!_ That, or Anna really is losing her mind and her imagination is doing things to her.

“Y-you used teeth first,” is what Anna thinks her imagination does to her next. But when she focuses, she realizes that it’s just Elsa, finally speaking in spite of everything.

Of all ways to respond, Anna grins. Not that the blonde can see, but she does it, nonetheless. It is so thrilling to hear Elsa talk back. How very unlike her. Anna decides that she needs to get Elsa drunk more often. “You know how I like biting you,” she tells her, voice husky. Then, in an even lower voice, “ _And I know how you like it when I mark you_.”

Elsa’s body jerks in sheer _want_ from that statement, and Anna has to gnaw at her own lip to suppress yet another embarrassingly guttural sound threatening to escape her throat. 

“T-then…”

_Hm?_

Elsa hesitates. “… do it.”

What?

“Anna,” Elsa turns around, reverting to their original positions. She drapes her slender arms over the redhead’s shoulders. _“Can we…?”_

Anna is at a disbelief. Outright shocked. She doesn’t know it, has yet to be aware of it, but Elsa has leaned in and has coaxed her mouth open. She’s kissing her, tongue probing in greedily, and Anna’s chest is about to burst and she’s _this_ close to melting into a pile of goo and oh fuck oh _fuck_ she needs to grab onto something. Q-quick, _anything!_

Her hands awkwardly grip at the air, and, like a magnet, they gravitate back to Elsa’s hips. _Oh,_ but she needs more. Something soft. _Something._ Anna reaches down, down to Elsa’s ass. No more inhibition—the floodgates are opened—Anna can’t care anymore and she just _squeezes._

“Mmn…” Elsa’s groan melts into their kiss, and they react by instinctively pressing closer. _Fuck,_ Anna might just take Elsa right here and now, on this dancefloor—the strangers around them be damned.

“E-El—” she tries, “—sa…”

“Oh, _Anna.”_ Comes Elsa’s reply.

_God._

Anna holds her.

_She’s so hot._

Her hands slip to Elsa’s front. Just a bit more and she can reach into under her skirt—

_“Please.”_

Anna snaps her eyes open, drawing back. Her body tingles from the sudden loss of contact and the undying need to taste more of Elsa’s mouth, to feel their tongues colliding, but in the same way that the music, the crowd, and the lights have hypnotized her, right now, they serve to awaken her. Right now, she’s reminded—

She’s so fucking drunk.

 _Elsa_ is so fucking drunk.

“D-don’t stop…”

Anna’s eyes damn well near roll to the back of her head from that desperate plea, but she hangs on. Not—

_Not here._

—not like this.

“L-let’s go back first, yeah?” Anna forces herself to say.

A frustrated, disapproving sob breaks out of the blonde, and she shakes her head, coming in to hold Anna in a tight hug. Languid, open-mouth kisses are trailed all over Anna’s neck, to which the latter bites back a cry, doing her damnedest to concentrate, as much as she wants to close her eyes and lose herself in the moment.

She tells herself that _no_ , time with Elsa needs to be cherished. Call her traditional, but nightclubs are for cheap thrills and in Elsa’s current state, Anna can’t. She doesn’t have it in her. It’s wrong. In her eyes, it’s equivalent to taking advantage on someone, regardless of them being her significant other. So no. No, no, no. Anna’s better than that.

She sucks in a breath to clear her mind. The smell of sweat and alcohol immediately fills her senses, ironically helping to sober her up.

“Elsa. Hey,” she says through the loudness. Her lips press against the blonde’s ear. “Come on. Let’s get Tadashi and Gogo.” Anna knows that Elsa would protest in her current state, and so she doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, she just pulls her out of the dancefloor, dragging her by the hand to go back upstairs to the lounge. Anna, to her credit, is not fazed one bit to find the tour-guide-couple still passed out on the sofa.

She giggles, just when Elsa comes in to wrap her arms around her side—a sideways-hug.

Elsa nuzzling her face in Anna’s neck serves as a lovely distraction, but it does not deter her from recalling what’s happened. How Tadashi and Gogo were so confident that they would waste Anna with all those drinks. How, in the end, after a few more rounds of those fruity sake bombs, which for some reason turned into a competition because of her very innocent declaration of _not_ wanting to be the last to finish, Anna and Elsa came out victorious, being the ones who didn’t have to take that mysteriously suspicious, unspeakable, clear-liquid shot as punishment. Well, kind of. Elsa did have to take it in the first round, after all. But she ultimately pushed through. Being an overachiever like she is, Anna would expect no less.

And that shot, as mysterious as it is rightfully crowned to be, probably has an alcohol percentage of one-hundred precent or something, because _would you look at its effects!_ Elsa straight-up turned into a whole new person, revealing a side that Anna would, admittedly, _die_ to see more often, and… just— _holy shit!_ Meanwhile, Tadashi and Gogo ended up needing to take two (plus fifteen in total, when including those colourful shots), and after a few games of _‘who is the king’_ and the fast-paced ‘ _pin-pon-pan’…_ just look at them. They’re passed out. Completely dead to the world.

And here Anna is, standing alone as the champion.

… wait a minute.

Anna looks to Elsa, still clinging onto her like a baby koala struggling to hug a tree. Struggling to climb it. Anna looks to Tadashi and Gogo, passed out.

Oh shit.

Is she the last man—er, _woman_ standing?!

“Oh, god.” She breathes.

Because how in the world is she going to get these guys home?

If it’s just her drunk girlfriend, things would be easier, but this is two other adults to take care of! And let’s not forget—Anna herself is currently walking on some thin ice. She’s practically blessed by the God of Staying Awake, and this god’s power is, without a doubt, on the verge of running out. She may very well pass out on the spot if she doesn’t hurry.

Which is why she _has_ to hurry.

Quick. Think fast. The bill. Get the bill.

“Um, e-excuse— _ugh,_ Elsa _._ Here…” she drags the blonde towards the sofa, opposite of the tour-guide-couple, and tries to lay her down. But Elsa is adamant; her grip is tight and like the baby koala that she is, she refuses to let go. Anna grunts. _Okay,_ no use wasting strength. Every breath counts at this point. If Elsa wants to hold on, then so be it. Anna refocuses, “Excuse me?” she calls to one of those servers walking by. A cute one kindly stops and looks to Anna with all her attention, like the redhead has seized the moment. It honestly makes her blush a little.

“I-I’m not sure how this works,” Anna stutters, “but I was hoping to pay for the bill for the table?”

The girl tilts her head in confusion.

Oh hell. She probably doesn’t understand. Alright, no problem. Just simplify the English. Anna clears her throat, “I mean. I want to pay. The bill. Check? You guys say ‘check’ here, right?” she gestures at the empty shot glasses on the table. “Paying. Go home. Bye-bye.” Anna says all of this while making weird hand signals, with Elsa nestling in her neck _while_ trying to maintain balance for the two of them.

Luckily—“Ah!” It clicked! The girl understands!

“Yeah!” Anna beams. “I want to pay. It’s time to go ‘bye-bye’!”

But then the girl starts shaking her head, vehemently doing hand signals of her own. “No pay! Yama…” _aaand_ she trails off into a string of Japanese.

It’s Anna’s turn to tilt her head.

“Mm…” the girl stops, noticing Anna’s confusion, and then she tries again, “No pay. Yama, Tadashi, _tomodachi.”_

 _Tomo…?_ Wait, Anna knows what that means. It’s… _damn it,_ she swears she’s looked this word up. It— _oh!_ Friend! _Tomodachi_ means friend! _Wait_ —

“Wait, no pay? We don’t… a-are you sure?”

“Yes!” the girl nods, smiling. “Tadashi and Yama, good _tomodachi.”_

“Okay, um…” Anna is slightly relieved by that. “Can you tell Yama we said thank you _?_ I’d like to thank him myself, but as you can see,” she points to her friends. “I’m kinda stuck.”

It doesn’t seem like the girl understood that, but she gives her yet another kind smile, bows, and then walks off. Another table is calling for service.

Well, at least the bill’s been dealt with. What a miracle. Now for the other problem.

Anna drags both herself and Elsa towards the other couple. She reaches down to shake Tadashi by the shoulder. “Hey, Tadashi, wake up!”

The boy grunts, shoving Anna’s hand off and snuggles closer to his girlfriend. The two are cuddling, as if the sofa is their bed and the nightclub is their home or something. Man, if he weren’t friends with Yama, Anna’s quite sure that he’d be kicked out long ago. She’s also quite sure that sleeping at a nightclub is not allowed. Yeah, just a series of _fortunate_ events tonight. But right now, Anna needs fortune to help her on this particular matter. She reaches to shake Tadashi again. He has to wake up—Anna doesn’t know what to do otherwise!

“Tadashi, come on! Please, please, _please_ wake up! We gotta go!” she shakes harder with one hand, raises her voice, and rubs at Elsa’s back with her other hand, all at once. Anna likes to think that keeping herself occupied with so many tasks is a way of keeping herself awake.

“Last… round…” Tadashi mumbles weakly.

Oh, thank god. He’s talking—he’s awake!

“No. I swear to god, no more rounds,” she continues to shake him. “Come on, wake up. Let’s get you and Gogo home, and then you can sleep in peace, okay?”

He grunts. His eyes are flickering, like they’re trying to open but his tiredness is keeping him from doing so, and Anna sympathizes with him a bit too much. Lowkey, she wishes that she was in his position and that their roles can be reversed. How wonderful must it be to be able to no longer care about anything in the world and just sleep?

“I’m going to call an Uber to get us all home,” Anna fishes her phone out from her back pocket. It’s way past midnight—holy crap, it’s nearly two. She doesn’t even want to calculate the hours of being awake anymore. Her soul may as well have left her body. All she knows and remembers is that Elsa’s mentioned something about Uber being cheaper after a certain time, so, yeah. There you go. Fortune striking yet again at another random moment. “Where do you live?”

Tadashi’s response is a snore.

“Hey, no!” Anna nudges him with her phone. “Tadashi, wake up!”

He grunts again. Visually, it does appear as though he’s trying to, because he’s squirming, hands sliding along the sofa, like he’s reaching for something. These hands eventually come to reach the hem of his shirt and he’s pulling it up and… oh, _oh goodness—_

Anna squeaks. She looks away. “W-what are you doing?!”

Yet another grunt.

“Tadashi, t-this is the public and I already have Elsa and I’m not interested and…!” she turns a little to take a peek, but then—

“Live… here…” Tadashi mumbles. He has pulled his t-shirt up to reveal a tanktop underneath.

Anna chokes out a laugh. Words. Bright, glaring yellow words on a black tanktop that read: _If found wasted, please take to this address…_ and in parentheses, there is what appears to be a Japanese translation as well.

So, in the end, Tadashi’s expected himself to get wasted? Or is this just a precaution of sorts? Probably something he wears whenever he goes out to party. Anna figures that she’ll ask her when the time comes. For now, she enters the address written on his tanktop into the app.

* * *

The streak of luck continues as Tadashi actually manages to get up in his drunken state when their Uber arrives. They manage to get their respective partners out of the lounge area and down the stairs. Most importantly, they manage to not fall down the stairs as they head for the exit. _Whew._ Anna thinks she’s lost a few years of her life right there. They squeeze into the backseat of the car, and while the three older kids (technically adults) pass out right when the car starts moving, Anna screams at herself to keep her eyes open. It helps that Elsa, though asleep, has her lips attached to Anna’s neck, where she’s nibbling at the skin there. Electric currents surge down Anna’s spine, shooting to her core and _Jesus Christ_ she may have let out some weird noises. She prays that Tadashi and Gogo’s snores are loud enough to cover them up.

This hellish torture lasts for what seems to be an eternity until finally, _finally,_ they arrive at Tadashi’s place. Anna has to physically pry herself from Elsa’s vice grip, whispering to her, “I’ll be right back,” only to get a soft whine in response. It certainly breaks her heart a little, but she needs to help her tour guides out of the car, get them safely to their apartment.

At the entrance, Tadashi and Gogo struggle to keep themselves standing; they literally resemble ragdolls who barely know how to walk. Anna watches with concern, internally freaking out that the code Tadashi is plugging in may very well be wrong and that an army of security guards will come out to restrain them and then take them in for questioning.

But.

That’s just her tired mind overreacting.

He gets through on the third or fourth try. The door buzzes open, and Anna leads them through the lobby, towards the elevator.

“You guys good?” she asks.

Tadashi bobs his head. He hugs the unconscious-but-standing Gogo close, protective. It’s kind of sweet.

Anna smiles. She turns to make sure their Uber is still there, to make sure _Elsa_ is still safe. Then, she shifts her attention back to her tour guides. “Careful on your way up, okay?”

He bobs his head once more. “Mmn.”

“Drink lots of water when you’re home. And text us in the morning. Got it?”

At that, Tadashi, with what may be the last of his strength, raises his head to smile. “Thanks, Anna,” he says with a strained voice. “You’re a real bro.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Goodnight, Tadashi.”

He winks at her, clucking his tongue just as the doors close.

Though her vision is hazy, and her mind may as well be spinning on an endless, imagined carousel, Anna fights to copy and paste the address of her and Elsa’s Airbnb into the Uber app, returns to the car swiftly. She does all of this without falling on her face, which is an admirable feat, if she does say so herself. Elsa, then, comes back immediately for that hug she’s deprived of and attaches her lips back on Anna’s neck, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. The nibbling ensues, and Anna’s at a point where she’s given up. She needs sleep. Senses numbed. Her eyelids have never been heavier—it’s like they’re being weighed down by rock slabs. So heavy. A soreness possesses the entirety of her being and… _oh god._ She can’t. She’s…

_So tired._

“Anna…”

Yet, the gentle caresses of Elsa’s lips keep her stuck at a limbo, caught at a junction between sleep and consciousness. It urges her to hang on. Her eyes are closed, but she hangs on, reaching for Elsa’s hand and she _hangs on_ with her dear life.

She has long lost the perception of time, and so when the car comes to a halt, one that she notes is much sharper than any before, Anna jolts awake. Her vision is blurred, all she sees is a white fog, and she can’t recall herself saying _thank you_ to the driver.

Last test. This is the final boss…!

Anna takes a deep breath. She stiffens her body, thinking that this way, if her mind isn’t awake, her skeleton, her muscles—her _nerves_ would be. So, please, please, _please_ make it to their flat. It’s just the second floor. Just one flight of stairs. Turn at the first corner, third room. Key. Unlock. Door. Open. Shut it. Shoes.

_Bed._

Anna collapses onto it, never letting Elsa go, dragging her along, who then crashes right on top of her. 

_Oh, heaven._ The mattress. _So_. _Fucking. Soft._

Screw it. Screw everything. No shower. No blanket. Worry about it tomorrow. Elsa’s here. Elsa is enough.

Anna slides her hands up, running them along the sides of Elsa’s ribcage, making the blonde shiver in delight, and then she wraps her arms around Elsa for warmth.

And Elsa, likely dreaming of food, comes back to nuzzle her face in Anna’s neck.

At least, that’s what Anna thinks she’s dreaming of.

_Nibble, nibble._

It may just be her, but Anna can still kind of feel the rhythm of the music from the nightclub. Still feel the movements. The heavy bass that rumbles the floor. The remnants of it. Still feel…

_“Anna…”_

… Elsa’s body.

Grinding.

_“Anna, c-can we…?”_

Elsa’s voice.

She whines in response, moving her hips against Elsa’s, all the while thinking that this dream is the perfect send off to the first day of her vacation.

* * *

The smell of a distinct sweetness, an aroma with the blend of a mild roast and the fragrance of a nutty flavour is what wakes her. But it’s the warmth beside her that truly stirs her. The presence of one she is too familiar with, who, merely by _existing,_ puts a smile to her face.

“Somebody’s finally awake before me.” Anna whispers with her eyes still closed. She’s not ready to be blinded by the morning light. This right now is the ultimate form of comfort. Just let her hold on for a bit longer.

A soft sigh of amusement comes from the blonde. Elsa isn’t lying in bed with her, but she is kneeling on the bedside, resting her chin right next to Anna face. “Somebody really does snore like a century-old locomotive,” is her playful response.

Anna opens her eyes at last, feigning the angriest face she can ever give to Elsa.

Of course, the blonde ends up giggling. “You look like a pufferfish.”

“And you…” she means to come up with some sly remark, but _nope._ Elsa looks gorgeous as always, and so what comes out instead is a pouty, “… are a stupid.”

Which then just makes Elsa laugh harder. The beautiful sound to her lively voice rings in Anna’s ears like music—soft, gentle wind chimes; it seriously is something she can listen to for the rest of her life.

Still.

For all the times they’ve slept in the same bed, this is legitimately Elsa’s first time hearing her snore. Anna isn’t a deep sleeper, yes, but when she’s _dead_ tired, the snoring really does get out of control. There are also plausible theories that may explain why Anna’s true, locomotive-snoring powers have never been revealed. Hear her out—she actually thought this through. A bit too much for her to care to admit.

Reason one: Elsa is super huggable (therefore, it makes Anna sleep… better? Okay, kinda dumb).

Reason two: Elsa’s too polite to call her out on it (therefore, she’s been keeping it a secret for the eight months that they’ve slept together? Alright. Even dumber.)

Reason three: Elsa is the deepest sleeper in the world (therefore, she can never hear the snores even when they do happen in the dead of the night. Yes. Most likely. Let’s go with that one.)

“I’ve made coffee.”

Anna yawns. “I’ve noticed.”

Elsa scoots closer, their faces now a mere inch apart. “Hey,” she whispers with smile that defines tenderness.

She blinks, instinctively drawing back just a little out of sheer confusion.

“You were a real hero last night,” she says. Her voice is crisp, warm, and so, _so_ loving.

Anna’s heart races at the echoes of it in her head, letting it repeat several times before clearing her throat. “Is, um. A-are Tadashi and Gogo okay?”

Elsa’s smile widens. She brings a hand up to cup Anna’s cheek, her thumb grazing softly along its flushed colour. “They’re okay, and they said thank you.”

“Well, I—” she pulls the blanket up to her nose, “—I didn’t really do much.”

“Oh, but I think you did,” Elsa says as she tries to pull the blanket down. “Next time, though, do tell me when you’re tired. Don’t push yourself like yesterday again, okay? I would never forgive myself if you got hurt from being too tired.”

Anna stiffens. Right. Yep. She’s a horrible liar. Always has been. “I thought I concealed it pretty well…” she mumbles. “When did you find out?”

It’s Elsa’s turn to blush. She turns away, avoiding eye contact.

Anna quirks a brow up.

“Never mind that. Just…” Elsa worries her bottom lip, “… you’ve slept for over twelve hours, so—”

“Twelve hours?!” She springs up from the bed. Inevitably, the suddenness gives her a head rush; her world spins, and she has to clutch onto her head to hold onto reality. “What—oh my god, what time is it?”

“Anna, relax,” Elsa says, sitting next to her as she brings a hand up to massage Anna’s neck. “It’s almost three in the afternoon, but—”

“Three? Oh, no. Our plans for the day! What…” her head pounds. She may be feeling her first hangover ever. “God. Elsa, I’m so sorry. I was trying not to ruin our first day, but now I’m… I’ve slept in, and it’s all my fault. I’ll—”

“ _Anna._ ”

She shuts up. Her lips are smacked tight. Elsa’s using her strict voice. Best pay attention and all.

But as soon as she Anna quiets down, Elsa breathes out. Her fingers play with the little hairs at the back of the younger girl’s neck, and she comes in close. “It’s okay. I think our first day was way too much. I actually woke up not long before you, so I appreciated the rest.”

An argument forms in her head, but Anna just sighs in defeat. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Elsa says, still maintaining her smile. “You should go back to sleep if you’re still tired. Our tour guides said that they’re going to take us out for dinner for all the trouble from last night, so you have a bit more time.”

“Mmn…” Anna stretches, throwing her arms upwards and then leaning over to the blonde just to let herself get hugged in return. “We’re just going to stay here until dinner time?”

“We can walk around the area for a bit,” she brushes aside the strands of hair that cover Anna’s eyes. “Find some food. I saw a five-star rating on Google for a crepe café that isn’t far from here.”

“Ooh, crepe?” her eyes light up. “I hope they have chocolate flavoured.”

“I’m sure they have all the chocolate you can wish for,” Elsa chuckles.

Anna grins. “Oookay, then!” she slides off the bed and heads towards the bathroom. “I’ll get ready, and…” the smell of coffee hits her again, filling her body with an unspoken energy and a need to just _get up,_ “… and I have got to have some of that coffee you’ve made.”

Elsa’s cheeks are so round and puffy when she smiles.

She gives the blonde one more look, and then she’s shut the door to the bathroom. The plan is to strip out of her clothes and run right into the shower (she can’t wait to use those fruity scents again), but— _but what the hell is this!?_

Her shriek comes in the form of a soundless gasp. Eyes widen at the sight of her own reflection, of… of the glaring crimson marks scattered all over her freaking neck…! From the tendons to the bump of her throat— _she turns to the side_ —her jaw line— _she yanks her collar open—_ her collarbone, the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and…

Holy shit.

And why is there a _draft_ at her lower body?

Anna pulls her t-shirt up.

Why isn’t she wearing pants? She swears that she was still wearing her shorts last night because she was way too tired to remove it.

There can only be one explanation.

Anna opens the door.

“Elsa…”

Oh, the girl is still sitting in the bed, hugging her knees, looking all guilty.

Elsa knew this was coming.

Anna steps out of the bathroom with her hands on her hips. She does her absolute best impression of an adult getting ready to scold a child when really, she just wants to laugh.

“So,” she starts.

The blonde lowers her head to hide her blush.

“Was this how you knew I was tired?”

Elsa’s shoulders are at her ears. Her face is completely hidden behind her knees, but the nod is evident. “You’d never say no…” she explains in a broken murmur.

Anna can’t fight her smirk. She takes a step forward.

“And when I wanted to… y’know…” Elsa’s voice is getting softer, getting more difficult to hear, “… you started snoring, and I…”

“You…?” Anna says, now crawling on the bed towards Elsa—very much like a predator.

As if it were even possible, Elsa hugs herself, looking even smaller than she already does. “I didn’t do anything to you, Anna. I promise.”

“Hm.” Now in front of the older girl, she does a nonchalant hum. Her next words come in the form of a purr. “You know I wouldn’t have minded, right?”

Elsa shakes her head. “I-I don’t want that.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Anna affirms. She comes even closer, and very naturally, Elsa falls back, allowing Anna to straddle her. “But now that we’re both awake…”

Elsa’s hands are at each side of her face. The redness on her cheeks have spread down to her neck, to much of her chest that’s not really covered up with much credit to the large collar of the shirt that she’s wearing.

Anna wets her lips.

And Elsa swallows.

“When’s dinner?” she whispers.

“U-um.” Elsa squeaks. “Seven, I think.”

“Seven,” Anna repeats. Slowly, _agonizingly_ slowly, her hands find Elsa’s hips, fingers dancing along the silky fabric of her shirt. The heat between them intensifies. Somebody’s going to have to turn up the AC soon. Anna chuckles internally to the thought before rolling her hips forward, building onto the white-hot flicker in her belly that she didn’t know is ignited. “Plenty of time to waste, don’t you think?”

“Ye—

Anna grinds _hard_ against her centre.

 _“—yes!”_ Elsa cries, tossing her head back simultaneously.

 _Ooh,_ she’s so wound up.

Anna leans forward, planting hot, searing, open-mouth kisses all over Elsa’s neck. “Then show me,” she breathes. “What you wanted to do,” her tongue trails up to Elsa’s jaw, “… before I fell asleep,” her hands slip under her shirt, fingertips dancing along the creaming skin beneath until she stops to cup Elsa’s breasts. “ _And on the dancefloor_.”

Elsa lets out a tiny gasp.

Good _._ She actually remembers.

Anna pulls back briefly, just to give Elsa a flash of her sinister smirk before the both of them are naked in the bed.

On the floor.

In the shower.

… until they get a call from Tadashi to remind them of the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, sorry for the delay. i wanted to finish up my one-shot that i started back in april to make it in time for F2 anniversary. didn't work. had ideas for another one-shot which i also couldn't finish. eventually decided to just come back and finish ch28 lmao.
> 
> regardless, thanks for sticking with me. hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter!


	29. interlude - ii

_“Wow.” Says the girl who has opened the door._

_The girl, with fiery red hair, who stands not much shorter than herself. The girl, who, in that tiny fraction of a second, makes Elsa experience shock, fear, and excitement, all mixed awkwardly together at once, and—she says awkwardly because… well._

_Because it’s pleasant._

_It’s a strange, comforting feeling._

_“Um…” Her heart flutters, just as this girl’s freckled cheeks brighten into a beautiful dusting of pink. Her sun-kissed skin radiates—it is the literal representation of sunshine, and Elsa has never seen eyes that remind her so much of the ocean. Of a white, sandy beach with crystal blue waters. Of the sounds of the gentle waves. Of warmth. Elsa tries to smile. She tries to speak, to form coherent words because the girl probably thinks something is wrong with her—why is she just standing here, not introducing herself? How incredibly rude— “Hello, you must be Anna.” She nearly pats herself on the back for not stuttering._

_The teal irises that wrap around those black sphere orbs thin into mere lines, barely visible, and the blush on the girl’s skin deepens. It’s adorable. S-she is… um._

_No, she’s here on a job!_

_Stay professional!_

_“My name is Elsa,” she offers a hand to the girl. “I hope Mrs. Eriksen has told you about me. I’m going to be your math tutor.”_

_.  
._

_Yes, she tells herself to stay professional, to cherish this opportunity that she’s so lucky to have found, but with every passing lesson that she has with this girl, the stronger this unspoken gravitational pull becomes. It’s out of her control; almost as though she is a puppet on a string, and some higher being is making her do things that she never once knew she was capable._

_Things like sending emojis to her and only her. Smiling, genuinely—whenever she speaks._

_When she is in the presence of Anna, Elsa feels at ease. Like she can leap into the air and take off. Soar in the skies and fall into the clouds._

_It reminds her of a small, childhood fantasy she once had of rolling around in a bright and fluffy softness._

_Because nobody lights up the world like she does. Nobody encapsulates the definition of warmth—one that Elsa has once upon a time experienced when she was much, much younger—like she does. And Elsa wants more than anything to hold onto this feeling. To prolong it, retain it, pursue it. Never let it go._

_.  
._

_But it’s all very new to her. Elsa, being the awkward mess that she is, doesn’t know what to do._

_People have always been the ones to approach her. And so, she must confess—she’s never actually had anyone she can call ‘close’. Sure, the occasional smile, a nod, and a couple of words would gain her a few… acquaintances, but nothing beyond that. Eugene, Tadashi, Gogo, Honey Lemon, Wasabi, and even Hiro—people she’s met in her faculty. They’re all nice people, it’s just that… it’s intimidating. Not that she doesn’t like people—don’t get her wrong. But they are overwhelming at times, and… she just prefers being alone._

_It feels nicer, she’s convinced herself._

_But then Anna comes along. Bright, enthusiastic, beautiful Anna Eriksen._

_This wonderful girl comes along, and Elsa’s convinced herself of something else: maybe… the only thing intimidating about the entire process is the first step. She should open herself a tiny bit more._

_Try harder._

_She can do this._

_Then maybe Elsa can become someone she can be proud of._

_Someone that Anna can be proud of._

_Anna…_

_An anomaly bursting into her life in the best way possible. A lovely, intelligent young woman whom Elsa finds to be endlessly curious. For every moment that they spend together, there is always something endearing that she would discover._

_Like the way the apples of Anna’s cheeks puff up proudly whenever she successfully solves an equation. Like how she would purse her lips, chewing on them thoughtfully whenever she is stuck on a question. And, above all else, like how she makes Elsa feel whenever she is concentrated on her work. The curls of thick, dark lashes. Blue-green eyes clearer than any crystal she’s ever seen. Freckles that remind her of summer, outdoor picnics, and sunshine piercing through the foliage of a dense forest. Pink lips that Elsa adores when their corners arch upwards._

_Lips that, for each tick of the clock, each swing of the pendulum, Elsa finds herself becoming increasingly drawn to._

_Her heart leaps at the thought. Is it weird that she wants to kiss her?_

_Oh, goodness._

_Has she developed a crush? I-is this what it feels like?_

_This… this is all so new to her. What should she do? How does one handle such extraordinary emotions? Being enveloped by this fuzziness curling deep in her stomach as her head spins and spins. The nebulous force that urges her forward when Anna acts in kind. The many moments where her breath catches in her throat, where her lungs would stop functioning at the mere presence of this girl._

_Honestly. How does one overcome not being able to kiss (even when they’re_ this _close!) so many times? Elsa wants to cry. It’s so frustrating. Each time it doesn’t happen, an unsettling sensation, akin to a heartburn, hangs at the back of her throat._

_But when the feeling passes, when she is given time to think, it certainly brings that smile back. Because looking back, of all those times where it doesn’t happen, Anna, very apparently like herself, shows a similar frustration._

_Gradually, Elsa realizes that Anna, like herself, wants whatever_ this _is between them to happen._

_.  
._

_And so, when it finally_ does _happen on Christmas Day, Elsa shatters._

_Not right at that moment, per se (she doesn’t want to scare Anna away). But that night, when it’s dark and quiet and the gentle snowflakes outside are falling, when the girl’s lying beside her, Elsa lets the tears run down her face. They come soundlessly—it gives her a moment of clarity. To think this through. Take everything in. Know that it’s real._

_But, oh—the tears won’t stop. Her smile doesn’t go away. She is trembling in all these emotions, frightened that this is a mere dream and that when she wakes, there will be nobody but herself. But it’s okay, she thinks. This brief moment of warmth and safety, of what is the closest to home she’s felt after all these years—she’ll memorize it. Let it replay in her memory. It’s enough. It’s enough to remind her of what she once had._

_It’s enough._

_Her thoughts are interrupted when Anna turns to face her, draping an arm over her waist._

_“Is this okay?” The girl asks, her smile audible behind her soothing voice._

_Elsa chews at her lip to suppress her sobs. She can only nod._

_Anna gathers her in her arms. Plants a kiss on her forehead._

_“I’m nervous too.” Anna giggles. There is a pause—a clear hesitation. Then, “Do you mind if I, um… hugged you to sleep? I-I mean it’s probably really creepy to ask but, like…” Anna gulps. “… may I?”_

_Elsa’s heart flutters. It takes flight briefly before she remembers to answer. Except, she doesn’t know how to answer. She ends up nodding again._

_“Yay!” comes a whispered cheer. She nuzzles her face in Elsa’s neck; the latter feels her take a deep, drawn-on breath. “I can’t believe this is real. I mean, we’re, like, together-together!”_

_Those words, as silly and overly enthusiastic as they sound, make more tears run down her cheeks. She closes her eyes and prays that sleep does not take her away too soon, for she wants to feel Anna’s hand continue to brushing along her back, again and again. Calming her mind. Assuring her that yes, indeed—this is real._

_It’s as real as the world is starting to feel around her._

_.  
._

_It’s more real than any piano competition she has won, more real than any university acceptance, more real than any relationships she has had._

_It’s real when they spend time together. Going out on dates, watching movies, eating, laughing. It’s real when Elsa takes her ice-skating, when she tells her things that she has never told anyone—not even Gerda. It’s real when Anna gives Elsa her undivided attention to a topic that even the blonde herself thinks is mundane._

_“They were busy people, you see. Always flying to different countries for their performances…” she tells her at a little dessert café on New Year’s Eve. It’s nothing important. Elsa tells her so many things that she believes no one would care about. But Anna never looks away. Never stops smiling. And she would always have an amusing yet earnest answer, no matter what Elsa tells her._

_“… when we’re old enough, maybe we can go travelling as well.” Is Anna’s suggestion, her voice as lively as ever._

_It never fails to make Elsa’s heart flutter. “I would love that.”_

_It’s especially real when Anna kisses her._

_The way their lips move against each other’s—the softness unparalleled to anything she’s felt. Elsa melts into a pile of putty when she is in Anna’s arms. She doesn’t know what else to do than to toss her head back, arch into the girl’s touch as those fingertips radiate warmth, shooting electric currents straight into her nerves and she can only writhe and writhe and moan Anna’s name as it happens._

_But everything escalates, blasting through the rooftops, extracting her soul out of her being when_ it _happens. Yes, ‘_ it’. _On Valentine’s Day, the concept of reality is twisted into a spiral of joy, desire, and ecstasy. To have Anna for all that she is; to give herself to Anna for all that_ she _is, Elsa is tethered. Connected to this girl by an invisible string of fate and oh, the more passionate and heated their relationship becomes, the more fearful she grows of it._

_“H-hold me…”_

_Which is why she needs to hold on._

_“Please…” Her arm around Anna’s waist tightens. “D-don’t—” she moans, “—don’t go…”_

_So that their connection may last._

_“… don’t let go.” She begs as tears stream down her cheeks._

_Anna’s touch brings a sob to her throat. She trembles and whimpers and her body is as taut as a bow string drawn back but she has never felt more alive and loved and in need to tell somebody—_

_“I love you.”_

_—that they mean the world to her._

_.  
._

_She fears the connection indeed, because for whatever reason, to Anna, Elsa is perfect. Anna sees her as an idol, and she would never understand why. For all her imperfections and inability to_ live up to expectations, _Anna loves her. The tender gazes that she catches from the redhead; how those beautiful blue-green orbs capture her heart with a mere glance. It’s all there. All Elsa needs to do is to stare into Anna’s eyes and she will feel as though she’s found a place in the world that she can call her own._

_To Anna, she is perfect. But as flattering as it may be, there’s also a lot of pressure that comes with it._

_Which is why she’s afraid to tell Anna how much of a mess she truly is._

_She isn’t going to hide forever. No, Elsa isn’t a child. She knows that if she wants this connection to be forever, there can’t be any form of misunderstanding. She’ll tell her. Elsa will tell Anna everything—her past, her fears, everything. Eventually._

_“Everything okay?” Anna asks when they return from lunch with Eugene and Rapunzel._

_No… no, that’s too soon._

_“You should be mad at me.” Elsa hears herself say._

_Because she’s never put the effort in to give Anna more._

_“I could never.”_

_But the girl would always give it her all for her._

_“… it’s not your fault, Elsa.”_

_Wrong. She’s wrong. It’s her fault. Always so afraid. Just a coward. She isn’t as perfect as Anna thinks. What would Anna think upon knowing the truth? Would she leave her? Would she still love her? Maybe that’s for the better, because she doesn’t deserve her. She doesn’t deserve her love._

_“Anna—stop.” She snaps at the redhead when all she is trying to do is give her a hug._

_Why did she do that?_

_“I-I’ll…” a pained sound comes from Anna’s voice._

_Elsa’s eyes become hot with tears._

_“… I’ll just study upstairs.” Anna chokes. “We can, um. I…” and she’s gone._

_Elsa’s alone again. She’s driven Anna, the one person she can fully trust, fully surrender herself to, away. Why did she do that? Why is she like this? It’s instant regret. Elsa wants more than anything to run after her. Apologize. Anna’s done nothing wrong._

_That’s it._

_She claims that she has to tell Anna everything eventually, so why not now? Elsa doesn’t want to lose her. It has to be now. She stands up straight, turns around, and—_

_Her phone rings._

_Gerda?_

_“Hello?” she picks up._

_…_

_Everything after happens too fast. It’s a blur._

_She clenches a fist at her chest, clawing her shirt. A coping mechanism. Hold onto something. She leans against the wall. Just… just think of something happier—_

_Mama, papa…_

_Oh, god._

_… s-she can’t breathe—_

_“Elsa!”_

_Anna._

_She’s here. Anna is here for her, even though she drove her away. Even though she was a selfish, emotional wreck and took it out on her, she came back. Anna came back for her._

_“… Let me come with you.”_

_Elsa looks to Anna like she is her world._

_And that is the moment that Elsa decides—_

_“… Please do.”_

_.  
._

_—Anna is her world, which is why Elsa has to do this._

_“Grandfather… I actually…”_

_She looks to Anna, standing by herself, alert and ready—like she’s about to defend Elsa with her life._

_Her chest tightens. She trembles, her body is tense and there is a shortness of breath, almost as though her lungs are going to collapse, but she pushes on. Anna does so much for her. This is the least that she can do. She needs to tell her grandfather that Anna isn’t just a friend. Elsa will never have anyone in the world but Anna. He needs to know, that the connection she has with Anna, it’s real. It’s everything she’s ever imagined love would be. Anna is—_

_“Grandfather, Anna’s—”_

_But fate has it that now is perhaps not the correct time. She is interrupted when Kai enters the room, driven out when Gerda insists that her grandfather takes the time to rest. Admittedly, there is a hint of relief, but a dread—guilt—rolls in the pit of her stomach, and it’s so, so heavy. She doesn’t want to feel happy about hiding Anna. She wants the world to know._

_But the girl is so understanding._

_“If you’re about to apologize, I’m going to be very angry at you.” She says in a surprisingly playful tone._

_And it’s enough to reassure Elsa. Anna is patient, encouraging, and unconditionally supportive. The insatiable joy that emits from her tender gaze, from her presence is enough to bring a smile back to Elsa’s face._

_Likewise, it is how Elsa knows that when Anna isn’t looking at her—is actively avoiding eye contact, something is wrong._

_Could she be offended, after all? That she didn’t tell her grandfather of their relationship?_

_“Anna…” Elsa steps into the shower. Gosh, it’s freezing. Anna’s left the water running cold. “Hey, what’s wrong?”_

_She feels the girl jump when she wraps her arms around her tiny waist. Elsa reaches to turn the temperature back up before hugging Anna again. She plants a kiss on the redhead’s freckled shoulder._

_“… Is it something I’ve done? If so, I’ll apologize. I-I—”_

_Anna is a passionate creature, Elsa knows that much. It’s not exactly something she would admit out loud (it’s so uncouth!), but she loves it when Anna touches her. The sparks that the younger girl is able to send throughout her body, rendering her sensitive and longing for more; the way Anna leaves marks all over her skin with teeth, as if screaming to the heavens that nobody else can have Elsa but her—the mere thought of it makes her knees buckle._

_She throws her head back, hitting the ceramic tiles and an awkward mix of a wince and a sob echoes in the bathroom. The sobs, however, soon become louder, and Elsa comes to the realization that those sounds are from Anna, not from herself. The girl is crying, muffling the noises into the crook of her neck._

_Elsa’s heart drops. There is a sobering, lucid moment where she tries to frame Anna’s face, using a mild strength to pull her up. She needs to look at her, but Anna fights it, retaliating, only coming up to crush their lips together—a form of distraction—and it doesn’t help that her body is responsive to everything Anna does to her. It’s out of her control. Her hips roll forward as those slender fingers curl inside; she jolts when a thumb presses down onto that throbbing area, and once it all ends, Elsa’s mind swirls in an endless vortex—spinning and spinning. But no matter how turbulent her senses, she remembers to hold Anna._

_Hold onto her world._

_“Anna.” Her voice shakes. She pushes herself. Try harder. Do it for her. “… Anna.”_

_“E-Elsa…” the girl eventually speaks up with a broken voice. “Why me?”_

_Do it, so that they can be who they want to be to each other, for as long as possible._

_“Why do you love me?”_

* * *

_The playoffs against Southern Isles High are an away-game, and Elsa is beyond ecstatic to watch Anna play again. She’s not much of a basketball fan, but her girlfriend has this particular charm about her when she’s on the court. Actually, that charm shows whenever Anna is serious, or when she is one hundred percent focused on what she is doing. Such as when she studies. When she tries to decide on what to eat. When she’s on top of her in bed, smirking, topless, and—_

_Elsa blushes._

_—and Anna is particularly charming when she winks at her, right after she takes that winning three-pointer._

_The buzzer goes off. The game has ended. 81 – 80, Arendelle._

_As the rest of the crowd roars with cheers, as Rapunzel and the rest of Anna’s friends throw their arms up in celebration, Elsa can only place a hand over her heart. Calm as she appears, she is actually doing her utter best to suppress her blush. Because those charms of Anna’s send her soaring, emotions swirling high. Each time Anna makes her blush with the smallest gesture, with the most minute touch, she is reminded that this goofy, silly redhead is a ray of sunshine._

_The most stunning and breath-taking person to have ever fallen into this realm that is Earth, brightening it up with an unparalleled light._

_Which is only one of the many reasons Elsa loves her._

_.  
._

_Elsa loves Anna for all her silliness and innocence, imperfections and flaws_. _No, Anna isn’t perfect, and as negative as that may sound, Elsa means no offense. On the contrary, she means this in the most respectful, grateful way. From Anna, who is constantly striving to be better, Elsa finds motivation. She discovers courage. The pathway to her goal illuminates; confidence builds from within, and she’s actually starting to feel drawn to do what she does._

_She wants to do what she does._

_Anna isn’t perfect, which reminds herself that neither is she. But if she can love someone who isn’t perfect, then Elsa is starting to believe that Anna can as well._

_So they will love each other for all that they are. Support each other no matter what._

_“I think I’m going to go with Berkeley.” Anna tells her all of a sudden. And by ‘sudden’, Elsa means out-of-the-blue-sudden. Anna’s just come downstairs after her shower; they’re about to make dinner together to celebrate her win (because she’s busy this weekend with her group meetings and Anna is going out with her teammates anyway, so it kind of has to be today)._

_An overwhelming sense of pride is what strikes her first. “You’ve finally decided?”_

_“Mhmm.” Anna plops herself down beside Elsa on the sofa. The girl smells of strawberries and roses. Elsa gives herself the luxury to inhale, breathing in Anna’s scent a little bit more. “Been thinking it over in the shower.”_

_Elsa rolls her eyes, chuckling. “I heard that is where everyone contemplates on life.”_

_She gets a frustrated grunt in response and a little shove, but then Anna starts, “Hey! I was being serious.”_

_“I know you were,” Elsa’s voice is soft. A burst of affection spreads from her chest when Anna leans over, bright, red hair resting on her shoulder. “What made you decide on it?”_

_“Been doing a bit of research,” Anna searches for Elsa’s hand. Their fingers thread together, and the younger girl starts fiddling. “Did you know, they offer a lot of courses that kinda lead towards their law school? Oh, and they have a great advising program and this really exclusive leadership club-thing that can give me a lot of tips on the LSATs. I mean, I’m saying that because I’m not sure if Berkeley Law is even my ultimate choice…”_

_A low hum sounds from Elsa. She nuzzles the lower half of her face in Anna’s fiery hair. Can never get enough of the girl’s fruity smell. She closes her eyes and listens on._

_Because Anna’s excitement is infectious; the tone of her voice, the way she explains her academic plans, which she has surprisingly already planned out and the enthusiasm that comes along with it—all packaged together in a manner more pristine than Elsa can ever attempt to do. Anna is more intelligent than she gives herself credit for, and to be frank, the girl probably isn’t even aware of this fact._

_“… with that being said!”_

_Uh-oh. She zoned out. Elsa clears her throat. “Hm?”_

_“I’ve also planned out when we can have video calls. Maybe at least three times a week? And especially when we study. You know how we do better when we study around each other, so it’ll definitely work out. Oh, and I’ll come back during breaks and holidays, of course. Thanksgiving, Christmas, your birthday…”_

_Right. This would mean that they have to be long-distant._

_“… four-hour flights aren’t much. A nap later, and boom! I’ll be right at your door!”_

_Elsa smiles. Genuinely, she is so glad._

_“So, um…”_

_But then she tilts her head, confused by the sudden hesitation. “Anna?”_

_“I-is it okay?”_

_She waits for her to go on._

_Anna scratches her cheek with a finger, looking shyly away into the corner of the room. “Me… going away.”_

_Elsa’s breath hitches._

_“I want to talk to you before I make the decision.” Anna’s voice barely projects. It’s almost as though she is afraid to speak up. Like doing so would break Elsa._

_How else to reassure her than to give her a hug? Elsa dives in, her weight pushing Anna flat on the sofa, and she hides in the crook of her neck. Now, she has every opportunity to breathe Anna in. Let that fruity scent fill her, again and again. And Anna strokes her back, her touch comforting and warm, despite the thick cotton sweater that she’s wearing. Elsa’s starting to believe that her teeth can be clattering from the cold of the winter; she can be suffering from pneumonia or even hypothermia, but with one touch—just one touch from Anna—she would be cured. Healthy, and ready to take on the world._

_And so, in Anna’s embrace like this, Elsa feels nothing but confidence. About life. About the future. About their life, their future._

_“I support you, Anna,” she eventually says, adjusting a little so that she can look up. She finds Anna’s eyes. It’s the colour of the skies at times, and sometimes the ocean. Sometimes a mixture of both. Right now, they are a shade of blue-green, teal. Azure with a bit of warmth. Like looking through a kaleidoscope, it’s changing—never constant. Just like Anna._

_“And, um. I… uh.” Anna tries._

_Elsa’s smile returns. Anna is evidently blushing—so cute._

_“I want to support you as well. Literally.” As if overwhelmed by her nerves, the volume of Anna’s voice has reduced to a mere whisper. Elsa would have to strain herself to hear if they weren’t cuddling. “I-I want to have a decent financial income, y’know? Like my parents. They seem to be doing okay. Maybe then, we can have our own place together in the future. I want to give you a sense of… um. What’s the word? Grounded… ness? Stability? Something like that.”_

_Her fingers, hooked at the collar of Anna’s hoodie, curl tighter. Elsa doesn’t remember to breathe as she listens. She listens and listens, lets the words replay. Echo. Seep into her mind._

_“Maybe then, we won’t have to hold ourselves back when we order desserts,” Anna gives her a toothy grin. “Order all we want.”_

_Elsa’s initial reaction is to blink. Thick, dark eyelashes bat inquisitively, as if she’s unsure whether or not she’s heard the right thing. But then, it comes. First, a chortle. Elsa snorts, unable to hold back the silly noise, she snorts again, this time louder, and before she knows it, she’s in tears, giggling, stuck in a fit, hidden in the safety of Anna’s arms._

_Yes, above courage, above even happiness, Anna provides her safety. It is no wonder she feels so at home when this redhead is in her presence. As Elsa continues to laugh, she feels more so than hears Anna laughing along. Probably because she’s on top of the girl. Anna’s chest rises and falls; her delightful voice chimes in Elsa’s ears, and Elsa loves feeling the vibrations that run along the girl’s neck. She closes her eyes, taking in just the sound. She closes her eyes, cherishing the moment._

_The moment lasts for a generous amount of time, enough that the next time Elsa opens her eyes, the room has gotten slightly darker._

_“Elsa,” calls Anna in a whispery, gentle voice. Like a feather, barely brushing on her skin._

_She draws back, stirring in the redhead’s arms and looks up. Their gazes reconnect and it is a stellar sensation. “Hm?” she responds._

_Anna looks at her for a long time. Just love. Admiration, and perhaps a hint of amazement, dare Elsa think, and then she laughs, “Why are you looking at me like that?”_

_Elsa can only giggle. “Looking at you like what?”_

_“Like… I said the dumbest thing in the world and you’re trying to hold in a laugh.”_

_She reaches for Anna’s fingers, “Well,” kissing their tips as she fails to hide her grin, “… you did say something silly.”_

_“Silly?!”_

_“Mhmm.”_

_Anna pouts. “I thought I was being mature…”_

_Her heart swells. Oh, Anna. Elsa feels tears coming to her eyes. She really has to stop crying. She comes in, sealing their lips together in a gentle kiss. “You were,” she says. “And I… I’m really proud of you.”_

_She truly is._

_For her insurmountable maturity is another reason that Elsa loves her._

* * *

_“So…”_

_Much to her chagrin, however, said maturity can sometimes be completely decimated by Anna’s prouder, more playful, and perhaps possessive side._

_Ever since the encounter at the ice-cream place yesterday, Elsa’s been dreading her lesson. Granted, it’s been less than twenty-four hours, but she has been dreading, nonetheless. The second Honeymaren opened the front door, Elsa is greeted with this… sketchy, smirky, knowing-and-judgey look, and Elsa’s just trying to hide her face. She’s also doing her best to ignore her heated, flushed cheeks and the possibility of spontaneous combustion from being way too embarrassed, but there is no way she can hide the steam that’s coming out from her head!_

_“… You and Eriksen, huh?”_

_Oh, goodness. Elsa squeaks. Her shoulders rise up to her ears, and her head lowers even more. S-she shouldn’t be so worked up about this!_

_Stupid, stupid (adorable) Anna being so stupidly possessive (which she kind of liked) and stupidly assertive (which was kind of hot) getting her all heated and squirmy and…_

_N-now’s not the time to think of such… matters! Getting mocked by a student like this—it’s highly inappropriate! Elsa’s the older one. Must she remind Honeymaren that she is her tutor? Technically, she holds a higher authority here, and… and as the tutor, she has every right to tell her student to… t-to…!_

_Raise your head and scold her, Elsa! It’s your job to make kids behave and listen to you!_

_She looks up—more like, she glimpses—and then she catches Honeymaren’s smug grin._

_Elsa squeaks again._

_Ahh! She can’t do it! Every time Elsa finds the determination to steel herself with the conviction to act tough, she ends up shirking back into her (what Anna likes to call) vulnerable bunny stance, and she just wants to sink into the ground and disappear forever, really._

_“Relax, Elsa,” her student says with a chuckle. “You act as though you’ve committed a crime or something.”_

_“I’m sorry,” she answers meekly. “I-I just… it’s. I apologize it was so—um, out of nowhere.”_

_“It’s okay! Like I said, you two are really cute together.”_

_Oh, dear lord. She feels it. She is a kettle; steam is coming out from her head. And if Elsa thought that was the end of it, then she really doesn’t know this cheeky girl well enough._

_“She your first?”_

_Why, yes, dear student. First amongst many things and—what the heck! It’s not like she needs to explain! Goodness, the flush is probably spread throughout the entirety of her body by now. Elsa wants to groan, to sound like she’s annoyed, but she ends up squeaking again. Her body really doesn’t function well when she’s flustered._

_“L-let’s get back to our lesson.”_

_But these types of questions continue to come, lesson by lesson, week after week. Not just from Honeymaren, but the few students whom she’s gotten friendly with have all taken an interest in her private life. Her love life, to be more specific. And gradually, Elsa finds herself feeling less tensed when answering these questions. Though, she doesn’t understand what the deal is with people and their fascination with her and Anna’s relationship, but in all honesty, she feels proud to talk about it. How she can confidently declare that her girlfriend is senior girls’ basketball MVP; how her girlfriend is going to Berkeley; how her girlfriend is the sweetest, kindest, and is the most beautiful person she has ever met._

_It… feels nice to talk about Anna._

_Because every time she does so, she discovers more reasons to fall in love with that girl._

_.  
._

_“… Our senior prom is this weekend,” Honeymaren tells her one evening near the end of May. “I’ve picked up a dress and was wondering what you’d think.”_

_“Me?” Elsa asks, arching a bemused brow. “You want my opinion?”_

_“Yeah! You’re, like, the most fashionable person I know.” Her student says, taking a beautiful, silky cream-coloured gown out of her wardrobe. “What do you think?”_

_She walks over and takes the dress and holds it by the hanger in front of the shorter girl, picturing her in it. “I think you’d look beautiful in this. The colour definitely suits you.”_

_“Whew, thank goodness,” the younger sighs in relief. “Took me some time to pick this out. Gotta match the venue, you know? It’s being held at the Langham.” Carefully, she takes the dress back from Elsa and places it back into the wardrobe. She handles the gown like it is some ancient artifact—slow and delicate._

_Then, as per usual, Honeymaren brings up the topic of Anna. Call her protective (or is this possessive?), but if Elsa didn’t know any better (such as the fact that Honeymaren is actually dating some guy in her school), she would think that the girl is interested in Anna. Oh, and Elsa is going to put up one heck of a fight if that were the case._

_“Did Eriksen tell you whether Arendelle is also going to have their senior prom held at a grand hotel?”_

_The question, however innocent, makes Elsa tense._

_She forces a smile._

_.  
._

_“You ready?” Anna reaches for her hand._

_It is tensed at the steering wheel, despite the fact that she has long turned off the engine. Anna’s gentle touch startles her slightly, but when that thumb runs circles along the back, Elsa breathes out._

_She catches the redhead’s tender gaze at the corner of her eyes. “Yes, I think so.”_

_Anna smiles, her expression more tender than usual. They get out of Elsa’s car and the blonde watches her girlfriend go to the trunk, opening it to take out the bouquet of white lilies that they picked out earlier from the florist. Elsa’s insisted that there is no need to bring anything, but stubborn as she is, Anna says that it is necessary._

_“Elsa?” Anna calls to her. She walks over, looping an arm around hers. “Which way?”_

_She points to a general direction, and then comes a pleasant, calming moment of silence when the redhead, without warning, leans in to give her a gentle peck on the cheek._

_“I’m here,” Anna tells her, and it makes Elsa breathe out—content, though it certainly sends her blushing at the same time. When they head off, Anna is strangely the one to lead her._

_They walk along the elegant cobblestone path that leads to down a seemingly endless green landscape. The pathway, shaped by the neatly trimmed grass, is a winding road that overlooks the quiet scenery. The heels of their shoes tap gently along the ground, and the sound blends into their serene surroundings where the occasional bird chirps in the trees. A cloudless azure sky, a bright, afternoon sun hanging high above them, neither too hot nor too bright—the weather exudes the welcoming of summer. Even so, an unspoken tranquillity that can only be experience on the earlier days of spring lingers in the air._

_But Elsa has never once felt tranquillity when she visits._

_Just a sense of longing. Emptiness, perhaps._

_Anna, of course, senses this. In fact, the girl always has a way of knowing something that Elsa has believed herself to be good at concealing. Perhaps she’s not that good at hiding her feelings after all. Or… that Anna has gotten good at seeing through her._

_For whatever reason, Elsa finds solace in that._

_They come to a halt when they arrive, and Elsa takes a deep breath just before raising her head. Anna nudges her to catch her attention, and the stiffness that she feels dissipates slightly._

_“May I?” comes a soft offer._

_Elsa nods, her smile apologetic. She keeps her lips sealed tight, however, as she knows that if she does say anything remotely close to ‘sorry’ out loud, Anna would get mad. Anna always gets mad when, and Elsa quotes, “she shows guilt”._

_‘You’ve done nothing wrong,’ is what Anna would tell her._

_It is fundamentally true, but Elsa’s started to believe that it is an irrational fear. Troubling others—she never wants that. If and when possible, Elsa would rather shoulder everything herself. The less attention she gets, the better. In that sense, she would never trouble anyone, right?_

_Same case here._

_Anna didn’t have to come with her. She didn’t have to waste her day to come here. Especially not today. Elsa’s just… she’s causing trouble to Anna, and it’s—_

_“Elsa.”_

_Her thoughts are cut off. She gets a reassuring squeeze on her bicep. One more smile from Anna later, she is released from the redhead’s arm._

_Elsa watches. Watches as Anna bends to kneel, watches as she lays the flowers down next to the headstone. Elsa watches as Anna looks at the names of her parents engraved into the dark grey slate._

_“Hello, nice to meet you.” Anna starts in the most naturally upbeat, sunshine-inducing voice. “My name is Anna.” She pauses, turning to look up at Elsa, as if asking for permission to continue._

_In that second, Elsa experiences surprise, breathlessness, and, most of all, warmth. She presses a hand against her chest. Her heart pounds loudly. Its strong, rhythmic beat drums beneath her touch._

_Anna’s smile never falters. It grows ever so encouraging, and never has Elsa seen a gaze that says ‘It’s going to be okay’ more than when she looks into this girl’s eyes. Her only means of answering is to bob her head a little._

_It is all that Anna needs to continue. She turns back to the headstone, taking a deep breath. “I’m, um. Hi. I’ve been told that I ramble a lot, so please bear with me,”_

_Anna’s voice is quiet and careful. She treads this carefully, and Elsa can tell that she’s rehearsed this._

_“I know I don’t look like much—I mean, I’m just a kid and I’m still in high school and am nowhere near as pretty and smart as your daughter is but, like. I… I was getting to a point, here. Sorry.” She clears her throat. “Elsa is… she means a lot to me. It’ll be a while before I can do anything for her, like, properly, but I can assure you that I work very hard! I always commit myself to the things I do, and I never give up on anything once I put my mind to it and… um.” Anna pauses again. Once more, she turns to look up at Elsa, this time more hesitantly._

_And Elsa, whose head is now spinning as she struggles with the fact that her lungs are about to collapse, can hardly return the redhead’s gaze through her blurred vision. She brings a palm up to cover the lower half of her face. Tries her best not to blink. Because if she does, the tears will fall. She doesn’t want to cry._

_Every year she comes to visit, she cries._

_She told herself that she wouldn’t this time. Not with Anna here._

_So please, stop crying._

_But then Anna, with a firm and confident voice, goes on, sounding so, so glad—so filled with life, so filled with hope, “What I’m trying to say is… I just—I love her so much,”_

_Oh, no._

_“And, erm, this is going to sound weird, but…” she interrupts herself with a short giggle. “I want to say thank you. F-for having her. Having Elsa come to this world.”_

_Oh no no no no._

_The inevitable sob breaks out. As do the tears._ Oh, Anna. _Elsa shuts her eyes as she tries to quiet herself down, but she ends up gasping, breath hitching uncontrollably, and she really is just in need of a hug._

_Not that she needs to ask._

_Anna’s way ahead, already holding her in her arms._

_.  
._

_“Sorry,” the younger girl suddenly starts as they make their way back to her car. “What I said… it probably freaked you out.”_

_The smile comes involuntarily. Elsa never wants Anna to feel bad about anything that she does for her. “No, Anna,” she answers. “It’s nothing like that. Please, don’t think that way.”_

_“But you barely said anything since we left the cemetery. You didn’t talk throughout the ride, nor at dinner just now. I know I’m usually the one to talk when we hang out, but I…” Anna heaves a sigh. “Elsa, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable.”_

_Genuinely, Anna is saying all of this to make Elsa feel better. The girl herself feels terrible, but somehow, Elsa’s well-being, no matter the circumstances, supersedes her own. Anna is always putting Elsa ahead of everything. And it’s—it’s…_

_Her teeth tug at her lower lip. She bites._

_Don’t waste this love, Elsa._

_Don’t waste her love._

_She stops walking. “Anna,” Elsa calls, her voice practically echoing in the empty parkade._

_Anna turns, her vibrant red hair swaying with her motion, with anticipation._

_Her heart swells, and Elsa realizes now that she can never get over how beautiful she is. How she was entranced by this girl’s beauty the moment that door swung open, how her crush for Anna blossomed into the purest form of love, how this love grew into appreciation, and how this appreciation taught her to cherish not just the people around her, but to cherish herself—so, so much more._

_The evening sunrays pour through the windows of the parkade, filling the concrete building in a warm, orange light. Those sunbeams, bright as they are, blend splendidly with the colour of Anna’s hair. The fiery colour glows; Anna’s hair appears gold—as though it is the embodiment of the sun itself. And then her eyes, just as astounding as the first time Elsa’s seen them, sparkle in a gentle blue-green._

_Exactly like the oceans of a sandy white beach on a summer’s day._

_The warmth fills her body. Elsa smiles—she approaches, her heels click-clacking as she walks, and for each step she takes, she sees Anna hitching a breath. Apprehensive, uncertain._

_But Elsa only wants to reach for her hand, to lace their fingers together. “You ready to hear something you say to me all the time?”_

_Anna blinks._

_The smile she wears widens. Very gently, Elsa pulls the girl into her arms. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Anna. What you said to my parents—what you said about me, it…” she can’t suppress it. Elsa just can’t stop smiling against her red hair. “It would’ve made them so happy.”_

_“Oh. Well, um… you know, I kinda wrote out a speech. And many drafts. Maybe like six? Can’t be embarrassing myself in front of your parents, right?”_

_Elsa giggles. “No wonder it was so cheesy.”_

_“Hey!”_

_Her laughter resounds in the empty space. Bouncing off the hard walls, her car, and a few other ones parked around. Elsa inhales. Other than the hint of petroleum, dried paint, and the smell of old elevators that fills her senses, she takes in everything that is Anna. Strawberries, roses, and sunshine. But she soon gets to her main point—_

_“Sorry I made you miss prom.”_

_Anna just exhales, her warm breath tickling Elsa’s neck. She shakes her head slightly. “You know I don’t care about that stuff.”_

_“You’d care if I went with you.”_

_“Why, of course,” Anna draws back. She wears a look of mock-disdain. “You really think I’d skip out on the chance of showing off my perfect girlfriend?”_

_Elsa gives her an eye-roll._

_A cute giggle comes from Anna, who then clears her throat and starts speaking in a high-pitched, exaggeratedly-girly voice, “Oh, gee, I’m thinking exactly the same thing! Wish I’d met Anna sooner, so that I could’ve taken her to my prom and showed her off!”_

_“That’s not how I sound like!” Elsa laughs, pinching both of Anna’s pink cheeks with a mild strength. “And I…” she starts softly, “I never went to my prom, either.”_

_“Wait—” Anna grabs Elsa’s wrists, “—you’ve… you didn’t?”_

_She shakes her head._

_Anna purses her lips, knits her thin brows together and tilts her head. “I swear you’d get a ton of promposals.”_

_Elsa breathes out in amusement. “RBF, remember?”_

_“Oooh, right. I see.” She pauses, this time nodding in understanding. Then, as if she were one of those caricatures who has a cartoon lightbulb setting off above her head—you know, the ones you find in those comic books?—an idea comes to Anna. She digs around in her dress’ pockets, seemingly searching for her phone, not at all elegant with her actions, and when she fishes it out, she starts tapping madly into the screen._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“I,” Anna’s focus is still on her phone, “was thinking,” she raises her head to grin. In one swift motion, Anna turns and places her phone on the roof of Elsa’s car. She comes back with the same smile as earlier with her hands behind herself._

_“Thinking…?” Elsa urges in suspicion._

_Anna’s pearly white teeth show when her smile widens. “That, maybe…”_

_From her phone, a soft piano tune starts playing. The speaker quality isn’t the best, but Elsa knows what it is right away._

_“’Clair de Lune’?”_

_Anna’s eyelids bat curiously. “That’s what this song’s called?”_

_“Yes. It’s from Debussy’s Suite Bergamasque. ‘Clair de Lune’ is the third movement.” She gets even more blinks in response, and Elsa can only chuckle. “What did you search?”_

_“I dunno,” the redhead shrugs. “’Famous piano songs’?”_

_She knows what Anna’s up to. It’s so obvious. But Elsa pulls through. She arches a brow to feign confusion. “Might I ask, why did you search that?”_

_“Oh!” Anna fixes her posture. She straightens her dress—its ridges fluttering with each brush. She’s dressed in a simple black one-piece dress. It hugs her slender waist, the skirts loose while the top mimics the style of a dress shirt. When she finishes, she clears her throat again, this time lowering her voice, mimicking a man, most likely. “May I have this dance, you sexy girl?” Anna rolls her tongue when she says ‘girl’, and she finishes with a flirty wiggle of her eyebrows._

_Yeah, no. Elsa just loses it._

_She snorts, clutching onto her stomach. The sound of her laughter is already filling the parkade before she is aware, and she even has tears running down her eyes._

_“Wha… what was that!” Elsa asks, breathless._

_Anna, to her credit, hasn’t faltered. She is still smiling, patiently waiting for Elsa to take her hand._

_She would be an idiot to say that she doesn’t know what the girl is doing. All these silly shenanigans are to make her laugh. For what has happened today—on this date, twelve years ago—Anna is trying, doing everything in her power to make her happy. Make her think better thoughts._

_This alone can bring more tears to Elsa’s eyes, but she doesn’t want to cry anymore._

_Not when Anna is here, smiling for her._

_And… gosh, is it just her, or has Anna gotten rather… handsome? Perhaps that is not the most appropriate word for a girl, but Anna radiates. The more Elsa spends time looking at her, the more charming she appears. Ah, that’s right. Anna is still seventeen. She is still growing._

_And Elsa has watched so much of it happen in the past six months._

_She takes her hand at last and is drawn in by the waist. Their faces are an inch apart, but neither feels the need to come any closer. Elsa doesn’t know how to dance, and neither does Anna, but the quiet piano in the background prompts to move, to sway gently._

_“Pretty sure if we went to my prom,” Anna starts quietly, “we’d totally win the Cutest Couple Award.”_

_Elsa doesn’t doubt that._

_“So I’m glad we didn’t go.” She wraps her arms around the blonde, bringing them closer in an embrace as they continue to move. “Can’t take the title away from Herc and Meg. Or, well, if Eugene is going with Rapunzel, then it’s probably going to be them.”_

_She hums, content with listening to Anna’s voice. Of course, not going to the prom for those reasons are simply excuses—it’s so obvious. But Elsa’s not going to call her out. No, she would never. Not when she knows the truth. The thought makes her heart swell, and Elsa holds back a sob by burying her face in the crook of Anna’s neck._

_“Anna?” Elsa hears herself say._

_“Hmm?” comes the girl’s sweet response._

_She nuzzles into Anna’s skin. Breathing. Taking in as much of this girl as possible._

_Anna, her sunshine. Anna, her world._

_She opens her eyes and realizes that the sun has long set; twilight is nearing its end. The bright, orange hue from the sun’s radiance has disappeared. The sky, as she can see from the windows, is left in a lonely, pink and purplish shade. It’s a beautiful colour, don’t get her wrong. But it’s not the sun._

_Elsa draws back. The music plays faintly in the background—the music nerd in her recognizes it as Chopin’s Nocturne opus twenty-seven, number two—a rather hopeful tune, though it carries a hint of melancholy. She stares with longing, straight into Anna’s teal orbs, and it brings her great joy that the sparkle remains. A light in the dark._

_“Thank you for today. Thank you for coming with me,” she whispers. “My parents would have loved you.”_

_“Well, I’d tell them to get in line,” Anna says. “The spot’s reserved for their daughter and their daughter only.”_

_A giggle bubbles in her chest. Elsa pulls her back in to resume the hug. “You’re the worst, and I love you.”_

_Anna relaxes herself. She sighs, exhaling contentedly as she, just as well, speaks up quietly. “Will you let me come with you every year from now on?”_

_Elsa refuses to part. If she lets go—if she draws back now, she’s just going to break down again. God, Anna. She really has to stop doing this to her. Elsa forces herself to nod, to not make a noise._

_“That’s good.” Anna says. She turns a little to plant a kiss along Elsa’s jawline. “I love you, too, by the way.”_

_A simple confession. One that she hears almost daily now. One that, despite its simplicity, is filled with so much emotion, weighed with so much gravity._

_Elsa dreads the day she can no longer hear those words in the morning._

_She dreads the day this girl’s shoulder is no longer so readily available when she needs it._

_She dreads, she dreads._

_But because she loves Anna for her attentiveness, patience, charms, and above all else, her maturity, Elsa will hide._

_It’s what she does best._


	30. Chapter 30

The hour-long bullet train ride to Hakone is probably one of the most pleasant journeys they’ve had thus far. It certainly beats that god-forsaken thirteen-hour flight to Tokyo, that’s for sure. What fascinates Anna is the fact that the legendary bullet train really does move like a bullet; the view that they get from the large window is distorted—blurred out by the speed, and so all the houses and buildings become muddled colours. Still, once the train is out of the city and into the countryside, green, lush, vast fields that stretch on to what seems to be forever become more pleasant to the eyes. The bento boxes that they have brought onto the train serve as wonderful complimentary, going fittingly with their trip.

They’re divided into these neat little compartments within the box itself, all undeniably delicious, and Anna’s glad that they didn’t have a heavy breakfast. Actually, the food’s so good that even Elsa, the prim and proper girl who gets full from a salad alone is able to finish everything.

“I swear, we’re going to gain so much weight from this trip,” Anna comments as she watches Elsa finish the final bite of her tamagoyaki.

The latter covers her mouth with a dainty palm as she speaks, “I think we already did.”

Their chuckle comes in a unison, and then they help each other pack up the garbage. Anna stares out the window, doing her best to concentrate on a single object while knowing full well that it’s pointless. The instant she can find something to focus on, it’ll just whip by like a memory.

“Think we’re almost there?” she asks instead.

Elsa checks her phone, presumably Google Maps, and bobs her head. “In about ten minutes.”

There is a moment of silence, where Anna simply stops to breathe. She looks out the window, contemplating, trying to relive every moment that they have spent in the city. The amount of people, the traffic, how busy it is, and the sheer, overwhelming sense of _nonstop-ness—_ all the more making her look forward to their escape to the mountainside for the remainder of the trip. Anna believes that it will most definitely be rejuvenating.

She glances back to Elsa just in time to catch her adjusting the stuffed toy in his seat. Anna bites back a giggle.

“Did Pooh have a good sleep during the ride?” she asks in the best motherly tone she can feign.

But Elsa doesn’t catch it. She’s far too occupied with her new companion. Elsa strokes the stuffy gently on its head, like one does to a baby, and answers with an affectionate smile, “Yes, he did. I think he really enjoyed the view.”

Seeing how focused Elsa is on a toy—a bit of a souvenir that Anna bought for her when they went to Tokyo Disneyland—is so endearing. Elsa is a mature, intelligent, talented, and undeniably refined twenty -year-old who is esteemed in everything she does. Anna cannot have guessed that Winnie the Pooh, of all things, can impact her—can trigger the child within her—this greatly.

No, for real.

When they arrived at the amusement park, Anna had never seen Elsa so ecstatic. The moment they stepped through the entrance, where a giant globe placed atop an equally giant fountain in this wide, opened space greeted them, Elsa jumped with joy. Like, actually jumped. Giggled with excitement. Shaking Anna by the arm and asking where they can get a map. Elsa was the one who kept on insisting to go on rides, to get the best seats for the shows, and to get fast passes just to take pictures with Disney characters (especially the Pixar ones—god, Elsa _loves_ Sully and, oddly, Lightning McQueen). Anna thought she would be the more childish of the two during this portion of the trip, but. _Wow._

Speaking of Disney characters, Elsa straight up _squealed_ when she saw a Winnie the Pooh character performer. Y’know, one of those workers in costumes who wandered around the Park on random, allowing kids to take pictures with them? Thank goodness Elsa didn’t charge over, all excited, knocking down the little kids along the way when she spotted him; thank goodness she was frozen on the spot, too stunned to even breathe. Anna could see the glee in her eyes, how she became so overjoyed that her jaws dropped, and so, Anna had to physically pull the blonde towards Pooh. What followed after was an extended episode of ‘Elsa-in-shock’.

“She really wants a hug from you,” was what Anna had to whisper to Pooh in order to get the moment going.

Of course, who could resist hugging such an adorable thing (referring to Elsa, by the way)? Pooh spread his arms for that hug, and Anna swears—Elsa’s heart likely melted on the spot. She knows this, because after the girl buried her face in Pooh’s soft fur, her fingers gripped onto his red shirt, having zero intention in letting go. Elsa stayed like this for some, two minutes or so, until a kid who had been waiting in line started whining for his turn.

It was then Anna decided that she had to pull Elsa away.

For the rest of the day, Elsa got all pouty and quiet, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Once they came across the ‘Hunny Shop’, Anna excused herself to “use the washroom” when, in fact, she ran into the store to grab a medium-sized Pooh stuffy (she would’ve gotten the large, but there was no way it would have fit into the luggage—they’re probably going to have to check-in medium-sized Pooh, anyway).

“For… for me?” Elsa had asked, wearing the most surprised and, once again, ecstatic expression.

“Mhmm.” Anna had nodded. She gently pried Elsa’s arms open to shove Pooh into her arms. “Promise not to be grumpy for the rest of the day, though.”

She did—Elsa nodded eagerly and behaved. She did not complain, did not stop smiling, and for the nights that followed, like an overexcited little girl, Elsa did not let go of Pooh when she went to bed.

And it wasn’t until Elsa woke up the next morning, where she told her that she’d never been to a Disneyland—that she had always wanted to go to one, that Anna understands the reason for her behaviour.

Which is why when she sees Elsa hugging Pooh to sleep every night since then, Anna can’t help but to feel a sourness at the back of her throat. Gently, she would stroke Elsa’s cheek with the back of a hand, and when she sees those lips tugging upwards, Anna’s heart leaps. When she leans in to kiss Elsa and gets a hum in return, her breath trembles. And when she wakes the next morning to find Elsa’s arms around her again, Anna actually has to suppress her sobs.

It’s a good thing Elsa’s such a deep sleeper.

Their train arrives at Hakone-Yumoto Station, where they proceed to board another bus that takes them up a hill to their bathhouse. They go through the check-in process, which is quite a delight to go through, honestly, with the receptionists serving them green tea and red bean pudding and whatnot, but it is absolutely hilarious to see Elsa, though trying to be responsible, does everything while still holding onto Pooh. Even as she converses with the receptionist. Even as she hands the woman their passports. Even as she signs some papers. Almost like a mother refusing to let go of her child. Which is a weird comparison, considering the fact that Elsa’s the one being like a child, here.

An old lady in a kimono leads them to their room, where their luggage has already been moved in. A few more attempts to thank the woman in Japanese later, the two are left alone, stunned, mesmerized by the sheer size of the place.

First and foremost, what catches their attention is the terrace. A giant, glass sliding-door on one end of the room that leads to the outside (which Anna doesn’t hesitate to run towards), revealing a panoramic view of Mount Fuji itself. The terrace, constructed in nothing more than wood, has this chic seating area with these lounge chairs and a matching wooden, square-shaped tub, which, to Anna’s understanding, is the private hot spring that comes with the room. On the other side of the terrace is a paper sliding door that leads to, most likely, the bathroom, which connects to the main room itself. It’s a very minimalistic yet elegant design.

When Elsa joins her on the terrace, Anna realizes that they’re both much too in awe to say anything. But when they have recollected themselves from the shock, from the initial amazement, they turn to stare at each other, grinning in the meanwhile.

“So. What do you think?” Anna asks with a chuckle, as if embarrassed.

Elsa, on her part, reacts by hugging Pooh closer to herself. She has her arms wrapped around his soft tummy, and she snuggles into his neck. And when she looks to Anna, Elsa’s gaze becomes impossibly softer because they sparkle—they _glitter_ like stars, and even as she speaks, the soft tones of her voice are delicate, nebulous, but nonetheless beautiful.

“Anna, I don’t think I have the words.”

It is a stellar moment. The burst of warmth that captures her heart spreads throughout her body, and Anna just watches.

She simply watches as the other girl prolongs her smile—thin, cherry lips arching upwards in the slightest, ever so grateful. Elsa’s head tilts closer to Pooh, as though doing so would hide her pinkening cheeks. Yet, in midst of all of this, Elsa’s gaze lingers, as though time has stopped, as though she is giving it her all to capture this moment.

Because to Anna, it is only the sound of the flowing water from the hot spring, the slow, rhythmic knock of a deer-scare in the distance, the breeze, the sun, the summer sky, and Elsa’s undivided attention.

“Do you want to go walk around the area?” she hears herself ask.

Elsa’s expression softens. Very carefully, she sets Pooh down on one of those lounge chairs, and then she walks over to Anna, taking her hand. “Yes,” she says. “I want to walk with you.”

Her heart flutters. It’s not a very lengthy answer by any means, but it makes Anna so happy. These simple moments that come to her at random, striking her when she least expects, it’s what Elsa does to her.

Now, if only she can capture this feeling.

Prolong it.

* * *

For a tourist attraction point, Hakone is strangely quiet. The architecture of the buildings is rustic, traditional—nothing at all like the futuristic concrete and glass buildings, yet they still retain a characteristic that weighs so much more than the liveliness that is in the city. For each tree, each shop, each lantern that hangs at the entrance of these small stalls, there is perhaps something… spiritual. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the air isn’t as humid anymore? Certainly, maybe because they are near the mountains, everything is more refreshing. Just. She can’t describe it precisely, but it is indeed a sense of calmness.

A sense of serenity that she gets when she is in the presence of Elsa, and now that the girl in question is here alongside her, likewise experiencing such an atmosphere, the feeling is heightened. It helps that here, away from the city, the air is much less humid; it’s clear, clean, and fresh in the most nature-esque, eighteenth century Romantic sort of way, if that makes any sense.

Once in a while, there would be a biker who passes by, ringing his bell courteously to ask for space, and then Anna would pull Elsa aside. They would get distracted by a store that sells trinkets such as toy katanas, kabuki masks, and a myriad of items that truly are of no use at all, but are interesting, nonetheless. The two would try their very best to converse with the old vendors who bow politely, and it brings Anna so much joy to see these lovely people trying their best to communicate, even with the minimal understanding that they have with their unshared language.

She does, however, end up buying a fox kabuki mask. It’s mainly to make that old lady smile, and since Elsa didn’t stop her (she’s been buying a lot of crap that’s pretty much filled up her entire luggage since week one), Anna went with it.

“Are you going to be wearing that for the entire day?” Elsa remarks as they approach a wooden bridge that crosses a shallow stream.

“Yep,” Anna adjusts the elastic band, and then she skips ahead, flailing her arms dramatically before continuing, “Behold! I am the legendary _Inari_ fox, and I will perish all bad luck from your life!”

The blonde giggles, covering her mouth with a dainty hand. “I think they have more to do with giving luck in fertility and agriculture.”

“What? No! I’ve read on Wikipedia that they mean good luck overall!” Anna protests, resting her hands on her hips.

“I don’t doubt it,” Elsa says as she approaches Anna with an unwavering smile. She reaches to adjust the mask, fixing it in place. “But if you really want to talk about the _Inari Okami_ , maybe we should go to Kyoto next time.”

“Kyoto? Why?”

“That’s where the head shrine is located,” she explains. “It’s also where that long path of torii gates is. Y’know. The corridor-looking red gate path?”

Anna gasps. “More photo opportunities?”

“Haven’t you taken enough for the trip?” Elsa laughs.

Well, when she puts it that way, Anna has been spamming her Instagram account with photographs, where she would tag every location. She argues that it’s a means of preserving memories, but come on. Her girlfriend is a supermodel. A freaking work of art. When Anna leaves for Berkeley, other than the (perhaps) infrequent video calls, these pictures are all that she can turn to.

“Can’t help it,” Anna eventually says. “Been around Tadashi for way too long. And Gogo, as well. She acts like she doesn’t like taking pictures, but I kid you not, she actually is the one to enjoy it most.”

“It’s probably from being around Honey Lemon for too long.”

“Hope they’re having fun in Korea right now.”

“I’m more concerned about them getting drunk in the middle of the day…”

Anna chortles. “Would you be surprised?”

A scoff, and then Elsa face-palms. “You know what? I’d be surprised if they weren’t.”

The two break into a soft chuckle.

There is a minute pause before Anna sighs in content. She takes Elsa’s hand, and they walk further along the bridge. It’s an ordinary, wooden structure—nothing remarkable, nothing too extravagant—just a wooden walkway and red railings. Very fittingly, the design matches its surroundings. Just as she herself is enjoying the view, when she turns to look to Elsa, she discovers that the blonde is doing the same. Anna then becomes distracted. Distracted by Elsa’s quiet, subdued movements. Every bat of those thick lashes, every breath that she takes, and every sparkle in her eyes. When Elsa catches her, Anna just smiles. She grips onto her hand more firmly.

Elsa’s reaction is a smile. Their pace is steady and relaxed—no need for rush whatsoever. So when Anna catches the blonde’s eyes wandering, panning, like she does when she reads a book in concentration, Anna follows suit.

“This place would look beautiful in the spring,” comes Elsa’s soft voice.

She agrees. The lushness and the crisp colours of green in the trees that will be dyed in a light pink. The foliage that barely blocks out the sunbeams. The breeze that brushes by the leaves.

“Then let’s come back,” the words just slip out, “For every season.”

“Every season?” Elsa breathes out with amusement. “Don’t you want to visit other countries?”

Anna just smiles. “Well,” she shrugs. “You know it doesn’t really matter to me. I’m just gonna follow you around for the rest of my life.”

The taller girl chews on her bottom lip. A mixture of delight and shyness, perhaps. Because her response is a quiet and barely audible, “As would I.”

* * *

As the sun sets, the two have returned to the bathhouse, changing into their matching, light blue yukata (a bathrobe-looking loungewear that is _super_ comfortable, FYI) in preparation for dinner. They are told that they have a choice of having their meal in their room—actually, breakfast and dinner are all-inclusive, so it’d be a waste if they didn’t choose to go with it—or they have the freedom to go out and explore the village. Maybe have some ramen if they come across a store.

“We’ve already tried so many restaurants back in the city,” ends up being Anna’s suggestion. “Something a bit simpler sounds nice.” Which is the reason that they’ve come back to the bathhouse.

“Mmn,” Elsa nods. “I do want a quieter evening for a change. It would be nice to try out the private hot spring as soon as possible.” She says this as she ties the sash around her waist.

Anna grins, glad that Elsa’s voicing her opinion more than anything. “We can make the rest of the week as quiet as you’d like,” she says, coming in to take the fabric from Elsa’s hands to help her. “I’m pretty worn out from the city life.”

The taller girl raises her arms a little, giving Anna room to wrap the sash around her frame. In the mean time, Elsa occupies herself by tucking the seams of Anna’s yukata behind the other one. “Don’t get too comfortable. We have to adjust once again when we get home. For you, especially. San Francisco can be really busy.”

She breathes out, but it’s too quiet to be heard. Anna finishes with a simple bow before holding onto Elsa’s waist with both hands. She doesn’t raise her head, but she speaks up. “And… you’re going to get busy as well with your internship and stuff.” Anna forces a smile, “You’ll be all sophisticated and professional like those adults walking around the subway stations back in Tokyo.”

Elsa, likewise, arches the corners of her lips up. It’s a smile that is as forced as her own. She circles her arms loosely around Anna’s neck, the tips of their nose touch and their lips are a mere inch apart.

The atmosphere shifts, and Anna can swear that she can hear her own heartbeat. It’s weighted, heavy, and slow. Finally, _finally._ The inevitable has come. The dread that has been building since late April.

“Elsa?” Anna says her name involuntarily. It slipped out when the blonde closes her eyes. Perhaps it’s Anna’s subconscious speaking. Perhaps it’s a repressed need to care for this girl. But whatever it is that Elsa is thinking, Anna wants to know. Now, more than ever. Her hands holding onto Elsa’s waist slide forward; she pulls the girl closer. Here they are, standing in the middle of the room, just hugging. Wordless. Calm.

“I can’t believe we only have a week left,” comes Elsa’s whisper. Her cool breath tickles Anna’s lips.

It urges her to feel it again. The coolness of it. Anna tilts her head up, anticipating for a hint of contact. Something simple. “A week can be a long time,” she says.

“Not long enough.”

The words sting. Right in her chest. Like a pang of guilt enveloping a person when they’ve said something wrong. Anna shoves the feeling down her throat. She tilts her head, silently hoping that Elsa would let their lips touch again. “Hey.”

A light brush. Elsa flinches.

But Anna moves forward. Gentle, nothing aggressive. “In just a few months, it’ll be Christmas break. I’ll be back in town to celebrate with you.”

Elsa’s breath trembles, but she attempts to hide it by pressing their lips together. At last, solid contact. Yet, it is a loose, wobbly sensation. Like they’re standing on a wire, fifty feet above the ground, and the wind is threatening to topple them over. “I know, I…” Elsa struggles for the words. “I’ll just miss having you by my side when I wake up in the morning.”

Anna holds her even closer, burying her face in Elsa’s neck. _God._ Don’t cry. Don’t be break down—this is supposed to be a happy moment. Anna ends up mumbling a soft, “Me too.”

The taller girl returns the hug, turning her head a little so that she may hide in Anna’s hair. “Anna?” she says into her ear. “We’ll be okay, right?”

She swallows the lump down her throat. _Think positive—_ Anna tells herself to _think positive._ She strokes along Elsa’s back, rubbing her hands up and down. “Yeah,” she breathes, glad that her voice isn’t shaking, “We’ll always be okay.”

But why doesn’t it sound half as convincing as she intends for it to be?

Come on, Anna. They’ve been through this. _Stop being a child._

Elsa draws back. She wears a tired yet undoubtedly beautiful smile, and then she moves to cup Anna’s cheeks. “They’re going to bring us our meal at seven,” she says softly. “Let’s get ready.”

* * *

“Y’know. At the rate that we’re eating, we might as well be ducks or geese.” Anna comments as she slips out of her yukata.

“What do you mean?” Elsa asks, mirroring Anna’s actions, albeit a bit more hesitantly. In fact, she’s straight up turned around so that Anna can’t see her front side.

“I mean, like,” she tries to find the words, reaching behind herself to unclip her bra and then moving on to remove her panties swiftly. “They’re feeding us so much! What was that, a seven course meal?”

“Nine. I counted nine.”

“Exactly! I swear, they’re going to kill us in our sleep, cut up our insides, and then take our organs. I wouldn’t be surprised if they used our livers as foie gras.”

Elsa nearly falls over when she takes off her underwear. Thank goodness Anna steadies her in time. “W-what are you talking about!”

“I don’t really know,” she says, holding onto the taller girl’s shoulders. Anna purses her lips in thought “Just… it’s a possibility.”

Elsa just looks confused. She knows that Anna is joking (or being her usual, unpredictable self), but sometimes her ideas can get so wild that it becomes difficult to discern what is real and what isn’t. “Right. I’m sure your parents have sent their own daughter and her girlfriend all the way out to the mountains in Japan to become foie gras.”

Anna nods. “Barristers are very good at scheming.”

She gets a poke on the forehead in response, followed by a soft giggle. “Come on,” Elsa says with an eye-roll. She ties her hair up in a loose bun and heads towards the shower. “We need to rinse up before using the hot spring.”

The entire process of the two stripping in front of each other has indeed become less nerve-wracking, especially for Elsa. But it does not mean that the blonde has completely gotten over her shyness. No, nothing like that. Especially not when Anna is eyeing her like this.

But Anna can’t help it. The slender, beautiful nape that is exposed from those blonde strands being held up. The curves, the softness of Elsa’s skin—that perfectly-shaped bottom. _Hm._ Elsa’s got a wonderful figure, yeah. Elsa’s got great boobs, legs, waist, _yes._ But has Anna ever mentioned her hips? Her freaking _butt_?

“You’re staring again.”

She blinks, refocusing to catch Elsa glaring at her. Whereas in the beginning of their relationship, Anna would be caught in a rambling, stuttering mess, as of recently, she’s gotten good at talking her way out of it. Okay, well, not _good,_ but, like. Passable. Exhibit A:

“I was… dozing off,” she starts, purely out of improvisation. “Food coma.”

Elsa tries to retain her serious tone, but she herself is averting her gaze. “It’s been two hours since we’ve eaten. Any sort of coma should be over by now.”

“Well, you know my metabolism isn’t as godly as yours.” She’s pretty sure metabolism doesn’t work that way, but… _eh._

Elsa’s glare returns. As shy as she is, she is able to turn around to _glare_. Her narrowed brows tense up, and this is the cue that exhibit A did not work out after all. But Anna still has her ways. She clears her throat, zips right by Elsa to soak herself up with the showerhead, and then she bursts right out to the terrace—“I’m going in!”—before promptly stopping herself from canon-balling into the tub. The steam and the serene atmosphere remind her that this isn’t your average outdoor water park. It’s a pretty high-class bathhouse that is reserved for people who can _actually_ afford it. You know, for adults? Definitely not for some kid.

And so, Anna changes her mind and instead takes careful steps towards the tub. She sits at the edge, dipping her toes into the water. _Ooh,_ it’s so hot, but it feels so good. It’s not scalding or anything. It’s like… dipping a finger into milk heated just right. Slowly, she slips her legs in, along with the rest of her body. The natural warmth of the water wraps her in a state of comfort that is incomparable to any bubble bath she’s taken back in her own tub. This type of warmth runs straight into her heart. Like feeling her gentle blood flow, moving through the veins in her body. Anna can damn well fall asleep on the spot, but she cautions herself because she might just end up drowning. She backs up against the edge, resting her head there as her eyes barely make the effort to be kept opened.

Just then, the door to the bathroom slides open and out comes Elsa. She’s clutching onto a small towel, just large enough to cover her breasts and a bit of the more… _modest_ area between her legs.

Anna, meanwhile, is grinning playfully, fully exposing herself in the bath. Her thought process is that with the amount of steam coming out of the water, her naked body should be pretty censored. So why bother hiding herself?

“Come on, Elsa. The water’s getting cold.” She teases.

“I-it can’t get cold,” Elsa stammers. She dips her toe into the tub. “It’s a natural hot spring…”

This may not be the first time they’ve seen each other naked in a bath, nor is it the first time they’ve taken a bath together, but there’s just something incredibly erotic about being in a private, open-air hot spring. Perhaps it’s the mountain air? The fact that everything is so exposed? Or maybe Anna’s just _looking_ more than usual.

And she is going to question this until the end of time: can she help it?!

Once Elsa finally slips into the water, Anna treads over, sitting herself next to the blonde.

It is unlikely that the blush is formed from the hot spring, for she has literally just stepped into the water, but lo and behold, Elsa’s already blushing.

“It’s not our first time bathing together. Also, I’ve seen you naked a thousand times,” Anna comments.

 _Wait._ Hold up.

She meant that as a hyperbole, but some part of her brain starts to wonder whether it really had been a thousand times. Technically speaking, they’re only naked around each other when they’re… _y’know._ So… the point is, have they had sex a thousand times?

Elsa scrunches her shoulders up to her cheeks, trying to appear as small as possible.

Okay. _Enough,_ Anna. Elsa’s already nervous as hell, being all cute and vulnerable and _so_ in need of a hug. Under the water, she’s still clutching onto that towel close to her chest, trying (futilely) to cover herself up.

“Just relax, Elsa.” Anna leans over to rest her head on Elsa’s shoulder. This girl needs to calm down. They’ve been dating for so long and Elsa still shows moments of shyness and hesitation—not that Anna doesn’t enjoy it, as it is one of Elsa’s unique traits, after all—but sometimes, it’d be nice to just see Elsa let loose. Be at ease. Kind of like how she was like at Disneyland?

Anna lets the thought drift away. Not that she’s going to ask Elsa to change; she loves this girl for who she is. It’s just one of those things that makes her think for more than a hot minute.

They sit there in silence, staring out to the distance, where Mount Fuji sits. It’s a peaceful night. Clear skies and all. Anna thinks that if there isn’t all this ambient lighting decorating the terrace, they would definitely see a few stars. “This is nice,” she says, her soft voice almost blending in with the quiet flow of the water.

“It is.”

Anna smiles, as she can tell that Elsa has relaxed quite a bit. She snuggles closer. “Do you think we can bring some sake out next time? It’d be so awesome to sip on something cold while we do this.”

“You know, you’re still a minor by Japanese standards.”

“Yeah, well…” she starts, “… you’re here to look after me. It’ll be okay.”

“Yes,” Elsa agrees. “But I don’t want you turning into an alcoholic.”

She scoffs. “Come on, Elsa. You know I’m not like that.”

Elsa turns to plant a kiss on the crown of Anna’s head. “I know,” she whispers. “Just want to make sure that Tadashi and Gogo haven’t completely corrupted you.”

Anna, in response, pecks Elsa’s bare shoulder before raising her head to look at her. “Thanks for worrying as usual. But I’m a big girl.”

“That you are.” The older girl smiles. She brings her hands up, fingertips brushing along Anna’s pink cheeks as she traces the freckles, connecting them with her touch and she just looks so, _so_ mesmerizing. It is in that brief, hint of a second where Anna tenses. How is it that a simple gaze can make her head spin? How is it that for every time she sees Elsa, Anna becomes overwhelmed by a new form of desire? It seems complicated on paper, but it really isn’t. It’s… Anna just… _god_. She can never get enough of this girl.

So when Elsa leans in to give Anna an innocent peck on the forehead, when she draws back slightly with the thought of giggling at the simple gesture, Anna catches her off-guard by closing their distance. She captures Elsa’s lips, tilting her head in the most practiced way so that she can kiss her deeper. Anna grabs onto Elsa’s arms, desperate—as if afraid that the girl would pull away. And each time Elsa parts her lips to breathe, a pleasurable sound would escape, sending shivers down Anna’s spine. Each time it happens, Anna would push deeper, silently asking for more. She ends up pushing Elsa all the way to the edge, which is then she realizes that she is between the blonde’s legs, her body very evidently more eager than her mind.

“ _Anna…”_

Their tongues are swirling, battling aggressively in each other’s mouths, where the sounds of their gasps and pants is overpowering that of the flowing water, the distant deer-scare, and perhaps the world itself. Anna pushes forward, dragging her hands down to spread Elsa’s thighs, and she has every intention to _do it,_ before the blonde breaks away. Her hand comes down to stop Anna’s from inching closer to her centre, and then she tries to close her legs.

“Wait…”

Anna has to blink several times to regain focus. Her vision’s blurred and all. When she can see clearly again, she notes that Elsa’s completely red. From her cheeks to her neck, and then all the way down to her chest.

Elsa averts her gaze; she looks off to the far end of the terrace. “It’s too hot, and…”

She’s not really listening. Anna can only stare at the blonde’s puffy lips. She’s scared that if she catches Elsa’s eyes, she’s just going to lose it. And perhaps Elsa is thinking the same thing, because the latter is looking around, searching for absolutely nothing, just as how her excuses mean nothing. The longer the wait, the dizzier they both feel. No—for Anna, she can literally _feel_ the blood rushing up to her head. It’s a pounding, thunderous sensation. Like there’s a gong in her brain constantly being hit. I-it’s too much. It’s so loud. So _hot._ In fact, she finds herself leaning forward, bumping her head against Elsa’s as a means to keep herself upright.

“… w-we’re going pass out if we…”

Anna ignores her. She comes in for another kiss, this time on Elsa’s neck.

“Please, _Anna_ —” Elsa tosses her head back. “I… Pooh’s watching, and…”

She lets out a groan. In her peripherals, Anna sees the stuffy sitting on the lounge chair, forgotten. He’s angled in a way that does appear as though he is watching the two, but. _Come on._ “As far as excuses go, that one is probably the worst,” she mutters. “Ever since I got him for you, you’ve been neglecting me.”

Elsa hisses. Anna’s teeth have sunk into her delicate skin.

“So, no, Elsa,” she shifts, straddling Elsa’s legs between her thighs. “I’m not stopping.”

The older girl flinches, as if startled. Can’t blame her. Anna is being a bit aggressive right now. Granted, she doesn’t speak like this to her girlfriend often, but when she does, they both know that it’s a matter of desperation. And so, Elsa surrenders herself. She lets Anna take her hand, gliding it downwards between the redhead’s legs. From there, Anna leaves her, coming back in to connect their lips together as her hands wander. They glide along Elsa’s lithe figure, tracing the curves of her waist—the feathery touches making the girl shiver—and then she rests them on Elsa’s breasts. Quite unceremoniously, Anna moves her thumbs and index fingers to the peaks, and she _pinches._

“ _Oh.”_ Elsa moans. She grits her teeth, eyelids fluttering as she attempts to focus. Her hand below wavers—hesitant, like she doesn’t know what to do.

So Anna comes in to speak into her ear. “Elsa,” she whispers.

The gulp from the blonde practically echoes.

 _“Touch me.”_ It is a soft yet ironically demanding request.

Can it even be labelled as a request?

Whatever.

Anna rolls her hips forward, the feeling of Elsa’s slender fingers against her slit send sparks shooting up her spine. The heat of the water amplifies everything; Elsa’s touch, usually layered with a coolness beneath, is all but forgotten. Right now, there is nothing but _warmth._ More than that—it’s an intensity that builds from her core up, like liquid fire, to the rest of her nerve-endings. Anna’s fingers quiver as though they’ve forgotten their purpose, and all she can hear is the sound of her own panting and Elsa’s sharp gasps. They slide upwards, clinging around the blonde’s neck and she locks her arms in place. Anna leans in so that their foreheads would touch.

They establish a brief moment of understanding, where Anna’s half-lidded eyes and Elsa’s cautious wide ones clash. The blonde offers her a small smile, and then the spark returns. This time, Anna doesn’t hesitate. She crushes their lips together, rolling her hips frantically, just as Elsa rubs her ring and middle fingers at her opening.

 _More._ She wants more.

But Anna doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to stop kissing Elsa. How else to tell her than to move faster?

Elsa comprehends almost instantly. Those same fingers slip in, and Anna is forced to part from the kiss.

 _“Els…”_ she clenches, “… _ahh…!”_

But Elsa is gentle. She seeks for Anna’s lips, kissing just the corners and she coos softly, “I’ve got you.” She says this as she moves an arm around Anna, wrapping it firmly around her waist, and it is a form of leverage, because then, her hand starts to move. Those fingers inside Anna curl, wonderfully so, as they brush along this soft, velvety, swollen area that makes the younger girl yelp. Elsa reacts in kind and kisses her again, this time fully.

“Elsa—” Anna breathes between each kiss, “ _God_ , I…”

Her fingers wriggle, squirming. They writhe and writhe and Elsa can no longer maintain the kiss, for Anna has drawn back, now clutching onto the blonde’s shoulders—fingernails digging crescent moon scars into her reddened skin—and she’s thrashing. The water around them sloshes, splashes of it overflowing, hitting the wooden planks of the terrace and everything is so hot, _so messy._

Strands of her red hair fall in her face, and Anna’s mind is set ablaze as all that rings in her head is the sound of her own cries and Elsa’s tender words of reassurances. They could be words that mean absolutely nothing for all she cares, but the fact that it is Elsa’s voice is all that matters.

And Elsa seems to know this. She knows that her voice does wonders to Anna. She knows that Anna reacts fondly to sound. Which is what prompts her to say her next words, “Anna. _Anna.”_

With all her willpower, Anna searches. For Elsa’s eyes. For Elsa’s voice. For _Elsa._

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.” She whispers, voice heavy. Her thumb traces Anna’s folds—lightly, just in the slightest. Then, that voice turns ever so soft, like an undying request, “ _Come for me.”_

Oh, _fuck_. Anna’s eyes roll to the back of her head, just as she keens and arches her back, taking in all of Elsa’s fingers as the latter’s thumb runs circles fervently on her clit. She is blinded by a flash of white light—it doesn’t last for longer than several seconds, but she is sent to a new height in this short span of time. A boiling arousal curls in her stomach, travelling up to her heart. It pounds, pounds, _pounds,_ and Anna swears that fireworks are exploding inside of her.

“ _Yes._ Yes, Anna.” Elsa dives in to kiss the girl’s pulse point, suckling at it until the area turns red. “You’re okay. It’ll be okay.”

Anna hears it all. She takes everything in. Anything that Elsa gives her, she would gladly take it. Her hips continue to roll as her body lives off the aftershocks. She buries her face in the crook of Elsa’s neck as she mumbles incoherent words into the blonde’s skin. Actually, Anna doesn’t even know if she’s talking. She’s just… dazed. Completely overwhelmed by what has conspired. By what _Elsa_ has done to her. Perhaps what amazes her even more so is the fact that, _erm,_ Elsa’s attempted dirty talk…?

Seriously, she’s never said any of those things to her before. Elsa usually isn’t the vocal one. Yeah, Anna can (easily) make the blonde say some (incredibly) sexy things at times, but the words just now?

_Whew._

The thought of it makes her smile. It almost makes her forget where she is, up until Elsa calls her name, “Anna,” sounding very much like how she would wake her girlfriend up from a nap. Though, it’s usually the other way around. Elsa’s usually the one to nap, after all.

But Anna just hums, nonchalant. As though Elsa didn’t just bring her to her orgasm in their private hot spring.

“Anna…” Elsa tries again, this time a bit more playfully. “We should get out soon. Or we really will pass out.”

“Mmn…” she moans. “Yeah, just…” She turns, grazing her lips against Elsa’s cheek. “Let me kiss you a bit more.”

Elsa breathes out. A sound of contentment. She wraps her arms around Anna’s smaller frame and adjusts, turning her head a little so that their lips may meet once again. But she does it slowly this time. More controlled. Just innocent, small pecks.

Anna’s okay with it. For each touch of their lips, her smile becomes wider. There is no rush, no need to hurry. Anna savours everything—the sensations, the sounds, the warmth, and _Elsa._ Caught in the illusion that time is stopping for them, gifting them this precious moment, they don’t let reality disrupt them. The imminent separation looming is all but a distorted afterthought, for as of right now, they have each other.

They part, mostly to breathe, but more so because it really is getting too hot. Having sex in a hot spring is erotic in theory, but when it comes to actually doing it? _Yeesh._ Anna can see now that it can be very dangerous.

 _“Anna.”_ Elsa rasps.

She gravitates forward, yearning for the taste of Elsa’s lips. 

Elsa kisses back, of course. She pushes the loose strands of hair behind Anna’s ear. Even the blonde’s loosely tied up bun is falling out of place, but to Anna, there is nothing more beautiful than seeing Elsa all red and dishevelled. But then, as if being woken up by an alarm, she draws back.

“L-later, okay?” Elsa breathes.

Anna groans in annoyance, but she complies. She would never be mean to Elsa. At least, not in this way. “Fine…” she pulls away, giving herself a big stretch. It is only then she realizes that the dizziness from earlier did not disappear. In fact, it’s definitely gotten worse. _Hm,_ it’s probably a good thing to get out of the water. Her skin’s all pruney, too. “I’m gonna use the shower. To cool down, more than anything.” She stands, grabbing a nearby towel to wrap around her body.

Elsa nods. “Okay.” It looks as though she is about to stand up as well, but then, she hesitates. Nervously, she looks over to Pooh’s direction.

Seeing that, Anna chuckles. “Seriously?”

Elsa responds with an adorable pout.

At once, Anna comprehends, but she gives the blonde a head tilt. “Wait, you were being for real? About Pooh seeing everything?”

Her cheeks redden impossibly so. Elsa tries to hide by submerging the lower half of her face into the water. “I…” she comes up a bit to mumble, “… never got many stuffed toys when I was little. It’s weird to suddenly have one by my side again.”

If anybody else told her this, Anna would scoff. She would tell them to grow up, to stop joking around. Y’know. Stuff like that. But hearing Elsa say that is different. The previous need to make fun of her dissipates. Anna breathes out, mustering all that she can to give Elsa a genuine smile. “I’ll buy you an entire collection of Pooh stuffies. We’ll go to every single Disneyland in the world, and I’ll get you one from each park.”

Elsa perks her head up. The excitement in her eyes is brimming as she beams. “Really?”

Anna nods. “Gotta make room in our future house, though. I’m going to get you a lot!”

She gets another smile in response before she heads back into the bathroom. Anna hops into the shower; bodywash and a quick rinse is all that she needs—her skin really is getting too pruney to be in the presence of water any longer. Elsa slips into the shower once she emerges, and Anna takes her time with her daily skincare routine after putting on her underwear and that comfy yukata.

Honestly, prior to living with Elsa, she didn’t care much about her skin. It’s ever since ‘moving in’ with the blonde that Anna’s discovered the secrets to having perfect skin. Turns out there is a price to be able to look flawless. The plethora of lotions, primers, and nightly facial masks placed all over Elsa’s bathroom back at the dorm? Yeah, those are essential to maintaining a youthful and healthy look.

And so, Anna’s gotten into the habit of taking better care of herself. It certainly made Elsa proud when Anna showed interest, for she gave the girl an extensive lesson on what to use and what not to use. Anna figures that Elsa’s mostly happy that she can play ‘tutor’ again. Good times.

Right when Anna finishes, the water turns off. Elsa comes out, gorgeous as she always is even if she is only doing something as mundane as drying her body. She wraps the towel around herself and digs through her pile of clothes, only to sigh in distress not more than a moment later.

“What’s the matter?”

“I… I forgot to get my underwear.” Elsa sighs.

Anna chuckles. “How unlike you.”

Another pout.

Her laugh becomes louder as she approaches the taller girl. Anna’s steps are tentative, careful, like she doesn’t want to agitate Elsa. Because her following statement is likely going to send the girl fuming, “You can just wear the yukata on its own,” she come close enough to speak into Elsa’s ear, “it wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone commando. Plus,” Anna lowers her voice, “ _it won’t be long before it’s my turn.”_

Elsa lets out a half-gasp, half-groan before shoving Anna away. She clutches the towel close to her chest and hugs herself protectively. “S-shut up.”

By now, Anna has to hold onto her stomach to suppress her laughter. Her need to protect Elsa is constant, it is an instinct—don’t get her wrong, but at times, it invigorates her just as much when she teases the poor girl. Though, she would always know when to stop. Elsa is far too precious to be bullied, anyway.

“I’ll go get it for you,” she says.

Elsa gives her an apprehensive look before grunting in defeat. “Do you mind getting me that new face cream we got from Ginza the other day? I want to try it out. It should be in one of the compartments in my luggage.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Anna says with a salute.

Some part of her comes to the immediate conclusion that finding things in Elsa’s luggage would be the easiest thing ever, as the girl is well-organized on an obsessive level. But she’s neglected the fact that they’ve done over two weeks’ worth of shopping, meaning that both their luggage is packed—exceedingly so. Which is why it comes as a surprise for Anna when she finds herself literally digging through Elsa’s items. She finds the panties easily (a sexy, purple laced pair, _yep_. Can’t wait till she sees this on the girl… only to take it off again later), but she has trouble finding said face cream.

“Elsa?” she calls, still digging through the stuff.

“Yes?” comes her voice in the bathroom.

“Where’d you say the thing is again? I can’t seem to find it.”

“One of the compartments. If it isn’t on the sides, try the ones on the bottom.”

Anna purses her lips in concentration. Facial mask, facial mask… chocolate, junk food… nope. Makeup, lotion—oh! _Oh,_ nope again. Just hand lotion. _Hmm._ More chocolate, more makeup. A silk cardigan that Elsa tried on and seriously rocked, some leggings… pink silicone toy, facial masks, packets of sample lotions, and—

Wait.

Quick, _rewind!_ Anna shovels through the stuff and thinks she’s hallucinating. Can it be the result of staying in the hot spring for way too long? It could totally be a side effect!

… is what she thinks.

But when she comes back, when she fishes that very _pink silicone toy—_ complete with the straps that come with it—Anna knows for a fact that she isn’t seeing things. Because. Like. Here she is, holding _it_ in her hands. Sure, she may look weird as hell, but in her defense, she isn’t the one who brought this _thing_ here! In fact, she might as well have forgotten about this _thing’s_ existence! T-this is all Elsa. It’s Elsa’s fault! Who— _who’s_ the perverted one now, huh?! Certainly not her!

She huffs, nodding to herself in agreement.

Stupid, stupid, perverted Elsa.

_Hm._

But, like… then again, if Elsa’s brought this here, it would mean that… that she wants to use it, right? Anna chews on her lower lip. Yes, that can be the case, because thinking back, when she first used this thing, Elsa didn’t dislike it. In fact, what did she say? Something like _it made her feel really good_ was how she put it, yes?

Yes.

 _Okay._ Yes. That’s right.

A newfound confidence radiates in her chest. Anna releases her lip, as she is now caught in a rather interesting thought.

Elsa—she wouldn’t mind it, right?

Like, she’s had her turn when they were in the hot spring. Technically, if Anna didn’t find this thing, they would be doing _something_ when they go to bed, anyway. S-so. Um. Using this now is… it’s justified.

Yes, it is. It totally is, because this is originally her present anyway (thank you, _Hans,_ she thinks with an eye-roll), and so she has every right to use it.

Anna sucks in a deep breath. She stands, slipping out of her panties before strapping the _thing_ on. This time, she does it much more elegantly. No struggle at all. Yep. It’s all muscle-memory by now, even though this is, _er,_ her second time. Anna moves quickly to cover herself up with the yukata, just before going back into the bathroom. Elsa, unsuspecting, is by the sink, seemingly reading the instructions of one of those complimentary skincare products provided by the bathhouse. She appears to be having a bit of trouble, as her eyes are squinting, and her lips are pursing. An utter look of confusion. Must be the Japanese. Anna would gladly volunteer to help figure it out together if her mind weren’t on something else at the moment.

She takes a deep breath.

 _Alright._ Here goes.

Just as she did before, Anna takes slow, tentative steps towards her girlfriend.

Elsa clearly feels her presence, but she is much too occupied with the bottle in her hand to look up. “Anna, I can’t seem to figure out what these diagrams are saying. Can you help me?”

Anna gulps. One more step. Then another. _Another._ And she is right behind Elsa.

“I think I’m supposed to use this after the primer? I’m not really sure,” Elsa says. “Oh, did you manage to find the face cream, by the way?”

Anna ignores her. She comes in to wrap her arms around Elsa’s waist, resting her chin on the latter’s shoulder. It makes Elsa twitch in surprise, of course. She raises her head, looking at Anna through the mirror.

“Anna—”

“Elsa.” She interrupts.

The brief, quiet whispered call of her name tenses her. Elsa’s eyelids flutter.

Anna plants a kiss on the taller girl’s bare shoulder. “Tell me if you don’t want this, okay?” She brings her hands up— _up,_ to release that towel. To expose the rest of Elsa’s body. The towel falls to the ground, and an immediate shiver surges through Elsa’s body. One that is strong enough for Anna to feel, who reacts by pressing herself closer into Elsa’s behind.

Elsa, meanwhile, is panting, breathing with her mouth opened and is doing her utter best to look at anything but her reflection. It’s as she always is—the mere sight of her own body sends her into a spiral of emotional wreck. Self-conscious and all, as though she doesn’t like herself. Perhaps this is the reason Elsa’s gotten used to putting on makeup. Perhaps this is the reason Elsa isn’t the type to take pictures. Perhaps… Anna’s looking a bit too deep into this but, _seriously._ Flushed cheeks and quivering body aside, Elsa looks like she’s in distress. Not because of what Anna is doing to her, no—but for the fact that she’s standing in front of a mirror, looking so, _so_ vulnerable.

It’s been like this since day one. Since the first time Elsa’s tried a dress on in front of her. You know, that day they announced their relationship to Anna’s parents? It’s just so frustrating. And it is for this this purpose that Anna will continue reassure her of how beautiful and perfect she truly is. To worship her.

“Can it not be here…?” Elsa speaks. “I-I don’t…”

“But I do.” She kisses Elsa’s shoulder again, and then she drags her lips along the tendon of the blonde’s neck. Anna pushes white-gold strands of hair to the side to give herself more access. The kisses are hot, open-mouthed, languid, and she eventually pauses at Elsa’s earlobe, where she tugs with her teeth. “Please, Elsa. Let me look at you.”

A high-pitched moan escapes Elsa’s lips. She’s rested her hands on the countertop, barely balancing her upper body as her legs seem to be struggling to keep herself steady.

And that’s where Anna comes in.

Her arms snake around Elsa’s tiny waist again, but this time, she pushes on. A hand moves up to cup Elsa’s breast, while the other moves down. Anna can’t help herself—she hears a moan coming from her own throat when she feels the softness that is Elsa’s centre, and then her hips involuntarily _buck._

Elsa gasps.

… Oh, shit.

She felt that. Elsa must’ve felt that. The _thing,_ hidden behind her yukata. Hard and bulging and _so_ freaking pointy. Hesitant, Anna darts her eyes up. She meets Elsa’s gaze in their reflection, and the girl is flushed. Wide-eyed. Alert—yes, but more so embarrassed.

They freeze. Anna’s certain that Elsa can feel her heart pounding against her back. _Thump, thump. Thump, thump._ It echoes in her ears, but even louder than that is her breathing. Heavy, thick panting and Anna sees herself, groping Elsa’s breast with one hand while the other one is between her legs. It’s scandalous, perverted—as Elsa would say, but to Anna, it is undeniably _hot._

“Y-you brought this here.” Anna whispers, equally as embarrassed. She hears Elsa swallow and she quickly searches for that lump in her throat through the mirror. It bobs, uncomfortably so. Then, to test things out, Anna shifts, bucking forward again.

A throaty moan comes out from the blonde. “I…” she grits her teeth, “… didn’t remem— _ber…!”_

The upperside of the toy brushes at Elsa’s centre, right between her legs. Anna’s fingers run small, gentle circles over the apex of Elsa’s folds, just lightly. As if teasing, her hips all the while set a subtle pace.

“But it must mean something, right? The fact that you brought it…” Anna angles herself, intentionally bucking forward a tad faster this time so that the tip of the _thing_ would touch Elsa’s opening.

Immediately, another gasp escapes. Elsa grips onto the edge of the countertop and screws her eyes shut, jaw slackening as she yearns to cry out. That look of distress is gradually getting replaced with one of genuine pleasure.

“Do you like it?” Anna tries to urge the answer out. Her fingers at Elsa’s breast tweak at the stiff nipple. Soft, tender touches that are all but teasing, mirroring the strength that she uses below. The circles she rubs along Elsa’s clit are small, but when a gradual wetness builds, Anna makes sure to move faster. She applies more pressure—just as she does on the nipple.

Elsa holds back. She refrains from speaking out. But actions speak louder than words, and her constant thrashing, the fact that her hips are moving on their own accord are enough of an answer for Anna.

Still.

“Elsa.” She halts on all actions. Anna needs Elsa to say it. She needs her consent, otherwise she will stop. “Tell me. What do you need?”

Elsa hisses. Finally, she raises her head, opening her teary eyes and their gaze connect in their reflection. “ _You.”_

Anna’s heart skips a beat.

“I need you.” Elsa whimpers, rolling her hips so that her sex would rub along the shaft. “Anna, _please.”_

 _That’s it._ Anna’s pace is set. She rocks forward— _rough,_ just as her fingers speed up. She tugs that nipple harder, and she presses onto Elsa’s clit, just as roughly. Elsa is dripping by now as the wetness coats not just the toy, but Anna’s fingers as well. How she longs to get down there and just taste everything. But such an impulse can wait; right now, she needs to see.

See both Elsa and her own reflection. See how the girl is surging with such powerful emotions, pushing her to new heights and, holy shit, it really is the first time Anna has seen herself _fucking_ Elsa like this. The—perhaps—same surge of emotion shoots down her spine, and as if taking form of the more masculine side of herself, Anna lets out a low moan. She guides the toy to Elsa’s opening, and then she _thrusts._

“Ah… _ahh—NA!”_

She doesn’t push all the way in. No, no. Never. As caught up in all this passion as she is, Anna would always have enough self-control. Hurting Elsa will forever be the last thing she does. Which is why only the tip enters. As she waits, Anna’s fingers continue to run circles, once in a while moving lower to touch those wet folds.

“You okay?” Anna kisses the skin next to her ear.

Elsa’s response is an instant nod. “Y-yes, I’m…” she leans forward, and Anna follows, holding her tightly in her arms. “Anna…?”

She plants another kiss at the same place. “Hmm?”

“ _Move.”_ The blonde croaks. “Please, I-I want… I…”

The struggle is real. But Elsa’s desire is eclipsing her nerves, and Anna would always prefer this side of her girlfriend. She obeys without question, thrusting again, this time deeper.

Elsa shuts her eyes again, but they are darting underneath their lids. Her lips part, like she’s about to say something but a barrier is preventing her from doing so. To that, Anna moves. She goes even deeper.

“It's okay,” she whispers. “I’ll hold you through it.”

It’s the reassurance that Elsa needs, because she answers with yet another nod. Anna does all that she can to make her feel better. Feel safer. Up until the toy is buried at its hilt. Anna can feel Elsa’s wetness dripping down between their legs, and she gathers as much as she can with her fingers, moving them up to do something so erotic that she swears she would cringe when she thinks about it later.

But who cares about later? What matters right now is this moment.

She brings those fingers to Elsa’s mouth, pushes them in, just as her hips draw back.

Elsa gasps, instinctively closing her lips but ends up sucking those fingers, and then she parts them again when Anna thrusts again.

The feel of Elsa’s warm appendage running over her fingers as she moves her hips may be a bit too much for her to handle; Anna feels weak at the knees, like she’s about to pass out— _very much_ like how she was earlier in the hot spring when she climaxed. She tries not to think about it, however, as this is Elsa’s moment. Everything she does right now is for Elsa. And so she draws her attention elsewhere.

Anna looks at the mirror, at their reflection. She looks at Elsa’s breasts, bouncing each time their hips touch, each time she rocks forward. She looks at that reddened nipple, very evidently bruised and raw from her ministrations. She looks at Elsa’s wonderful midriff, faint lines of her abdomen tensing at each thrust, and then she looks at _Elsa,_ how she’s still sucking at her fingers. Eyes shut and voice groaning in nothing but an unspoken hunger. It reminds her so much of how she wants to hear her voice. Of how Elsa’s voice is the ultimate drive to literally _everything._ So she pulls her fingers away, moving them down to the other breast, where she just squeezes.

Elsa throws her head back at contact, tiny, erotic, but restrained gasps come out from the pit of her core as she jerks her hips, moving desperately to meet Anna at each thrust.

But Anna doesn’t want Elsa to hold back. Why does she keep holding back? She obviously likes this. _Stop being so shy!_ Is what she wants to tell her, but she knows Elsa won’t listen.

She opts for something else.

“Elsa.” She calls, voice thick with desire.

The girl in question is too distracted—too occupied to even hear anything. Her own moans and their echoes in the bathroom are drowning out everything.

So Anna tries again. “Elsa, open your eyes,” she says louder this time.

When the blonde does, her cerulean orbs wander aimlessly around the room, much like how her conscience is, perhaps. Eventually, they find each other.

Anna smiles, but she never stops with her steady thrusts. She readjusts, wrapping her arms around Elsa’s torso as she peppers loving kisses along the column of the blonde’s neck. She doesn’t know how to say it out loud, to tell Elsa that she wants her to watch—watch as Anna shows her how much she loves her. It… it isn’t something you’d say to someone every day, okay?! Elsa may interpret it as a weird kink or something.

Which is why Anna can only breathe out an, “I love you.”

Elsa’s eyes roll to the back of her head. A cry breaks out; it seems like Elsa’s nearing her end, and Anna would give it her all to make this girl feel good. She hugs her close, speeding up her pace. The sounds of their skin slapping join the echoes of Elsa’s moans, and everything serves to drive Anna on. Faster. Harder. _More._

“ _Anna. Anna. Anna.”_

She shuts her eyes. Anna shuts out the entire world. She needs Elsa’s voice. That’s all. Just her voice.

“I love you,” she says once more. “Elsa, I love you so much.”

Platinum blonde hair falls in her face. Elsa’s upper body is weighted towards the counter. Her arms can barely support herself, and her legs are shaking, feeling like jelly and she wouldn’t be standing if Anna weren’t holding her close. And now, she needs more than anything for Anna’s hand. Blindly, she reaches up, searching for Anna as her walls clamp tightly at the toy, slowing down the redhead’s movements as she cries her name, again and again, endless.

Just as she wants this moment to be.

“ _Ahh…_ Anna…”

Her throat is dry, her uneven breaths hoarse. Anna sees sparks behind her eyes but she listens.

“D-don’t stop…”

_What?_

Elsa is interrupted by her own cries. She clenches, biting down onto her lip. “Don’t… I don’t—”

Anna slows her pace, but it only makes Elsa whine.

“—I don’t want you to stop.”

Her breath hitches.

Elsa’s gaze is desperate. Like she wants and _needs_ but doesn’t know _how._ “I-I…”

Anna rocks her hips slowly.

“Bed…” Elsa whimpers. “Please, _now.”_

There is no hesitation. Anna pulls out. She grabs Elsa’s hand and drags her back into the room. Once at their bed, she pushes the girl roughly down, and Elsa, being ever so accommodating, gets down on all fours. Anna takes off the yukata, realizing now that she probably will need to take another shower from all this sweat. The thought escapes her when Elsa raises her hips, and Anna finds it easier than ever to thrust the toy back in.

“A-Anna…!” a cry of pleasure. Elsa’s fingers clutch onto the sheets.

Anna’s fingers dig into her hips. For every thrust, Elsa’s rear jiggles. For every slap of their skin, Anna feels as though she is losing herself. She can only stare, eyes drilling into the perfect curves of Elsa’s ass—its round shape reminding Anna now just how stupid she is to have not used more time to admire this part of her girlfriend.

Just. _God._

Look at that!

The gleam of Elsa’s white skin, light reflecting off from it, and how— _fuck—_ it’s so soft to touch. Not like, soft-soft, but toned-soft. Does that make sense? Jesus Christ, Anna can’t stop touching her. Groping. Squeezing. _Feeling._

Elsa’s voice grows louder, more erratic, uncontrolled. It’s the way she’s supposed to be—untamed and free. It’s how Anna wants Elsa to be, but it is only in rare cases such as this would she ever be able to witness as such. And while she knows that Elsa may never reveal this side to people, Anna is content to know that she alone can see this. She bends forward, slipping her fingers over Elsa’s, and increases her pace.

“ _Oh, g-god…”_ Elsa moans as Anna leans on her. She can no longer support her weight, let alone Anna’s. Elsa’s elbows give in, and she falls over. Her hips are still raised, just as Anna is still thrusting. “Anna, I— _Anna…!”_

“Yeah?” she breathes. Her back burns, perhaps much more than the last time she used this thing, but she pushes on. She knows Elsa is close, she would never stop now.

“I-I’m _…”_ Elsa hides her face in the sheets. Her moans are muffled, and her movements no longer make sense. She’s a wreck, that much is clear. Her body jolts and the intensity that runs through her body is unrelenting. “God—Anna, _Anna!_ I-I’m coming, I… _uhhn!_ ”

Anna clenches. She slams forward, one, final time.

“ _Anna!”_

A single breathless moment that takes them both away, that makes everything else in the world miniscule, and they collapse. Anna falls on top of Elsa, too tired to move. She can only imagine what the girl is going through. Because… god, this _thing_ isn’t attached to her (as in, this isn’t a real dick), but Anna can definitely feel the quivering. Elsa’s walls are clenching, the muscles pulsing in protest.

Maybe next time, she shouldn’t be so rough.

Yes, _definitely._ For Elsa’s sake.

Speaking of.

Elsa’s climax is long—perhaps a bit too long, as Anna begins to worry about the constant shaking. It almost seems as though no amount of kissing can soothe her.

Which is why she needs to ask. “Elsa? Hey. Are you okay?”

The trembling does not cease. The blonde attempts to answer, but all that comes out is a whimper.

Genuinely concerned by now, Anna tries to turn Elsa over. But she’s… um. Quite dead. Like a ragdoll.

“Elsa, come on. Talk to me.”

A moment passes by, and then, “W-wait…”

Anna breathes out in relief. Well, at least she’s okay.

“An… na…” comes her weak voice.

“I’m here,” she kisses the spot behind her ear. “What is it?”

“L-let me…” Elsa hiccups. “Look at y-you…”

Those words can almost make her cry. Anna’s breath is shaky as she pulls out. With all her effort, she does it slowly. Millimetre by millimetre. Every twitch that she does can bring pain to Elsa right now, and so Anna begs herself to be careful. Once out, she flips Elsa around, letting the girl lie on her back.

Thinking that now may be a good time to take off the toy, Anna reaches for the straps.

Only, she gets promptly interrupted by Elsa, who holds onto her wrist.

Anna blinks.

Elsa, even with half-lidded eyes, looks at her with so much to say, with so much gravity. “Don’t…”

She stills, confused.

“I…” Elsa circles her arms around Anna, pulling her down so that their bodies are flushed. Absentmindedly, as if in a trance, Elsa’s lips find Anna’s. They give each other brief, tender kisses and if this isn’t the definition of warmth, then Anna doesn’t know what is.

“Elsa, you need to rest.” she says softly.

Elsa shakes her head. “Just a bit more.”

Anna smiles into their kiss.

“A bit more…” Elsa whispers.

"I think you've had plenty." Anna giggles.

The sound of Elsa breathing out. Very much like a sigh. 

"Elsa?"

“… Make this last.”

Hearing that, her smile disappears in that instant.

“Please.”

Anna stiffens and she forgets to breathe.

“I… I don’t want this to end,” Elsa’s voice changes. It becomes higher, pleading.

She shuts her eyes.

“Anna,”

It isn’t until Elsa’s trembling hand comes to touch her cheek—it isn’t until she opens her eyes does she realize that they are trying desperately to hold back.

“… please make this last a bit longer.”

Hold back from letting those tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this took so long. i meant to have this done by christmas as a present to you all, y'know? but i've underestimated the power of quarantined/virtual parties and ended up being really late. at least i made it before the new years lmao. i hope this 12k-word chapter is enough to make up for the delay. 
> 
> with that being said, i want to thank you all for supporting me this year. this may not be the most ideal year, but it was from your kudos/bookmarks/and especially comments that kept me going. here's to 2021 not being a bitch. 
> 
> also, i don't think i will be updating this fic until i get at least one of my one-shots OR a chapter of aphelion up 😤  
> i've been stalling for way too long...


	31. Chapter 31

Head resting on Elsa’s shoulder and eyes drooping, Anna finds herself dozing off. It’s a miracle in itself, as falling asleep in a moving vehicle (unless said vehicle is operated by Elsa) is damn near impossible for her. Well, unless she’s severely jet lagged—like the first day of their trip, on the Uber ride back home after dropping off Tadashi and Gogo.

But as her fatigued mind recalls those precious memories, she hears the voices of her parents and, vaguely, she feels more so than hears Elsa’s voice as well. The slight vibrations of it. Strumming like the strings of an instrument.

“… must’ve been awake the whole flight back?”

“Yes, I am quite sure.” Elsa says, as softly as she can. “It was especially difficult for her on the first day. I didn’t realize how tired she was and…”

Anna feels Elsa stiffen.

“… Anna took care of me a great deal. She always does.”

“And we are certain that you take care of her in the same way, Elsa. Perhaps more.”

“No,” Elsa shakes her head. “Not in the way that Anna does for me.”

Her parents chuckle, and Anna herself can’t help but to smile a little. Perhaps she’s not actively smiling; she’s way too tired. Maybe just in thought. Elsa’s honesty and politeness is endearing, and every time she demonstrates as such, Anna finds herself evermore mesmerized by her. Endlessly privileged. Intrigued. Just… in love.

Because, um, how should she put this?

Elsa is _hers._ Her girlfriend. Loves her. And, like. The girl is from another world. A whole new dimension. Someone with her upbringing—that is, coming from a wealthy family—should be entitled, cold, calculative, and simply hard to approach, no? Yet here Elsa is, perfect in every way. Flawless in everything that she does. 

_Sigh._

Anna nuzzles herself into Elsa’s neck. The girl in turn adjusts, letting her come close—one hand wrapped around Anna’s waist from the back and the other holds onto Pooh, who is resting snugly on her lap. Elsa’s signature lavender scent comes stronger from Pooh, so this can let the average person know just how much her girlfriend snuggles with this stuffy, how much she loves this toy. A souvenir that may mean the world to a child who runs on a Disneyland-high lasting for about two to three days; it is the average souvenir that can easily become forgotten, but Elsa treats it like her child.

And it is this domesticity Anna feels that lets this warmth within her radiate from her heart out. The simplicity of being in this car with her parents, with Elsa by her side, that keeps her awake. It is something that she ultimately wants to have in her life.

Not just at this moment, but, if she may, she wants this in her life forever.

“Say, Elsa,” comes her mother’s voice. It’s not too soft yet not too loud—just enough to stir Anna a little. “Why don’t you stay over at our house before Anna leaves? I don’t see a reason for you to be cooped up alone in your dorm when you don’t even have classes until next week. Actually—do you even have classes at all? You have that internship going, don’t you?”

Elsa swallows, which Anna can hear. “Yes, I…” she is obviously trying to gather her words, “I have several online courses this semester along with the internship, but I definitely will live in my dorm.”

“Ah, ever the hard worker,” Agnarr says. “So, what do you say? Why not stay with us, then? Anna would certainly be happy about it.”

Oh, yes. Anna most certainly would.

“If you’re tired of sharing a bed with her, we can always offer you the guest room,” Anna’s father goes on. “I mean, we’re quite sure that you’ve gotten fed up by her snoring by now.”

 _Ugh_ , Anna frowns. _The nerve of that man!_

“No—” but Elsa’s reply comes in before Anna can summon up the strength to open up her eyes, “—no way. I don’t… it doesn’t bother me at all. I’m a deep sleeper. I’ve only ever heard of Anna’s… um, heavy breathing? Once.”

“Aw, Elsa,” Iduna chuckles. “You really are adorable. I can see why my daughter loves you.”

Anna feels a blush coming up from her neck.

“It’s settled then!” Agnarr says. “I’m sure our girl will be delighted to know that you’re staying. Look at her,” he pauses, and Anna knows for a fact that he is looking through the rear mirror. It’s best to keep still. “Smiling in her sleep like that. It’s like she already knows.”

There is a collective, audible sound of a smile coming from both her parents and Elsa. The latter, being the closest, turns to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

And Anna thinks she’s melted on the spot.

* * *

The last day in Japan wasn’t nearly as excruciating as the first day. Like, she didn’t stay up for forty-something-hours, she didn’t explore the more crowded part of Tokyo, she didn’t win several drinking games against a couple of college students, nor did she dance her heart out at a nightclub (best to keep this a secret from her parents), but she definitely is worn out. Her groggy mind deduces that it is perhaps the accumulation of the weariness from the whole trip. Which makes sense, considering how they’ve gone for twenty days.

So she isn’t all that surprised to wake up in a familiar darkness—one that is dyed in the familiar yellow hue of the streetlights, a specific colour that can only be seen in her room.

She does vaguely remember being guided up the stairs by her father and Elsa. Wow. How long has it been then? Anna attempts to reach for her phone on the nightstand but is distracted when she realizes that there is a body next to her. Said body has their back to Anna—there’s a small light coming from the screen of their phone and, oh, who can they possibly be?

Anna smirks, scooting in to wrap her arms around the girl, fitting her body with all the curves, and they come together perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

“Still awake?” Anna asks, planting a kiss on Elsa’s shoulder.

“Mmn…” she nods. “I’ve been trying to sleep for the past few hours, but I’m too jet lagged.”

Anna glances at the corner of Elsa’s phone at the time. She does a quick calculation and answers, “Well, it’s like… five in the afternoon back in Japan. Around the time when I usually hear your stomach growling.”

“My stomach does not growl.” Elsa mumbles. “You’re talking about yourself.”

She giggles, nestling into the blonde’s neck and _breathes_. “Mhmm.”

Elsa squeaks at the sensation. Her breath trembles as Anna’s arms come up higher to her chest. “Anna…” her voice is soft, almost inaudible.

“Just want to hug you. Don’t worry,” she says into her skin. Then, in a softer voice, “… can’t have my parents find out that we’re not as innocent as they think we are. Seriously. It’s probably one of the reasons they’re okay with you sleeping in my room. Imagine if they found out what we did on our last week at the bathhouse. _Yeesh._ I think they’ll see me in a new light. They’ll definitely see _you_ in a new light.”

Elsa’s obviously blushing by now, and Anna doesn’t need her to turn around nor does she need the lights to see it. And this all becomes apparent when she starts talking. “I-I’m not the one at fault. You were being so handsy throughout the trip.”

Anna blinks, genuinely surprised. “And _you_ were being really encouraging.”

“N—” she squeaks, “—no, I…! You’re the perverted one.”

“Me?” Anna gawks. “I mean, yeah, sure—I admit that I am most of the time, but should I remind you who was the one to bring the _dil—”_

 _“Ahh!”_ Elsa spins around to cover Anna’s mouth with both hands, face scrunched up in a half-embarrassed, half-angry expression that is nothing short of adorable. “Shh!” She hisses, trying her utter best to keep her volume down despite the situation. It may not seem like much of a big deal to the observer, but to Elsa? _Ooh,_ this means the world to her.

Because Anna will use this against her for the rest of her life.

“Okay, okay,” she laughs as she grabs Elsa’s wrists. The grin she wears spreads all the way to her eyes when she catches Elsa looking at her hopefully, pouty and everything. Like a child throwing a tantrum. Not at all like your typical, whiny child, though. Because Elsa’s precious. So precious that Anna can’t help but to pull her in for yet another hug. “You’re so cute.”

Elsa groans. “You’re the worst.” She mutters, acting as though she doesn’t like this but is already circling her arms around Anna.

“Hm. But you love me.”

“Are… you sure?”

“Hey!”

It’s Elsa’s turn to laugh, but soon, she quiets down. She moves a hand to cup Anna’s cheek, her thumb lingers there, stroking as she stares, her gaze, tender.

Anna’s noticed that they’ve been having moments like this a lot lately. She smiles, fascinated by fact that Elsa’s eyes can still appear so pure, so blue despite the dimness of the room. Her own hands, meanwhile, dance along Elsa’s back, drawing random shapes here and there.

“Go back to sleep, Anna.” Elsa’s soft voice resounds in her ears. It’s almost hypnotic.

“Pretty sure I slept for more than twelve hours again. I’m actually kinda hungry.”

“You’re never going to fix your jet lag if you get up and eat now.”

“Easy for you to say. Mom probably cooked you a big meal while I was asleep,” she snuggles closer, hands moving up to adjust their hug.

“We can go for breakfast tomorrow morning,” Elsa suggests. “Maybe walk around town for a bit? Oh, we need to buy you some stuff before you fly,” she pauses, thoughtful. “I’ll make you a checklist tomorrow. Should get you some new clothes as well—thicker jackets, especially. San Francisco can get quite cold. And rainy. Yeah, I think it rains a lot there, right? I think we should shop for rain jackets, especially.”

Anna giggles.

“… what?”

“Nothing,” she says, smiling. “Just… you’re kinda hot when you’re being all responsible and stuff.”

Another pout. Elsa turns away, but Anna catches her in time for a kiss.

Which.

Honestly, she wanted one kiss. Just _one._ But her self-control obviously isn’t in check, and here she is, peppering kisses all over Elsa’s face—and, _oh,_ Anna’s hands are wandering again.

“Wait… d-don’t…” Elsa breathes, back arching on its own accord as the younger girl trails those kisses down to her neck. Her hands, likewise, come up to hold onto Anna’s head, dainty fingers combing through silky red hair as she tries her absolute best to stay quiet and… damn. Even though she’s saying ‘no’, Anna is certain. Elsa wants this too.

And this makes her realize: is this a problem? The fact that they can’t keep their hands off each other? What has the trip done to them? Most importantly, how is Anna going to survive through college without this girl by her side? Granted, this love she has for Elsa exceeds that of physicality, and she knows that she doesn’t love Elsa just for her body, no—no way, but it’s…

“No… Anna…”

The thought of not being able to touch Elsa terrifies her, and so the least she can do now is to restrain herself.

“I-if you continue, I’m… we—”

Stop it.

“Yeah. I… I’ll stop.” Anna whispers. She says this as her lips are attached to the tendon on Elsa’s neck. She stays there because of all parts about Elsa, this is her favourite to kiss. Anna sucks, getting a whimper in return, and then she nibbles on the skin. A gentle bite, suck, a stroke of her tongue. She does this, again and again, without the intention to push this any further, and then, reluctantly, Anna pulls back to breathe. “… We really need a place of our own.” She mumbles.

Elsa’s response is a sigh. She brings her arms up, circling them around Anna’s head, and she kisses the skin behind the younger girl’s ear. “That would be nice.”

Anna closes her eyes. Her heart flutters, being able to have the chance to envision a possible future with Elsa. It creates this illusion, if you will. It overlooks the inevitable gap—the years that may separate them in between. It gives her something to look forward to.

And, dare she say, perhaps Elsa feels the same.

“What do you want our place to be like?” Elsa asks, her voice rich and smooth like honey when she speaks so quietly.

“I really like your dorm,” Anna answers. “It’s so cozy and home-y and warm and… well, _you._ ”

A cute laugh bubbles in the older girl’s chest. “You’re saying it like you want to live there permanently.”

“Could we?”

The laughter escapes her lips. “No, silly.”

“Aw.” She groans but isn’t entirely hurt by it. Of course she knows her suggestion is impossible—it was just a joke, really. “I think I mostly like the view. Y’know. How it’s so high up? You can see the city and everything. Oh, I like how it’s so clean and tidy. Though, I know it’s one-hundred percent because of how organized you are.”

“Hm.” Elsa smiles into Anna’s hair. “So… you want something like a condo?”

“Oh, yes,” she says without hesitation. “Something simple.”

“You don’t want a house? Like what your parents have?”

“Nah,” Anna shakes her head. “I mean, I’m grateful for it, don’t get me wrong, just. The idea of having a neighbourhood like this is nice, but when it comes down to it, there’s a lot to maintain. The garden, backyard, the different rooms, how so much space end up being storage areas…”

She goes on for quite some time, explaining the pros and cons (mostly the latter) of having a house. It occurs to her now how much she actually has to say about something so mundane, but it’s nice to talk. It’s nice to have Elsa listen to her so intently. Not that she doesn’t already do this, but hey. This is regarding their future home!

“… and I guess we should get an apartment that allows pets.”

“Pets?” Elsa asks.

Anna chuckles. “I think somebody forgot about a certain Shiba Inu back in Tokyo…”

There is a moment where nothing comes out from Elsa. Then, out of nowhere, she does a half-whine, half-groan, voice trembling as she speaks, “Oh, Anna, why did you have to remind me?” she hides herself in Anna’s neck. “I miss him so much…”

She hugs her closer. “Aw, it’s okay,” Anna strokes her back, patting her head like the protective girlfriend she is, “we’re getting three dogs, remember?”

Elsa just buries herself deeper into Anna’s hair, clearly still distraught by the mentioning of that little puppy. Man, had Anna known that this would create such an impact, she wouldn’t have brought it up.

“Come on, Elsa,” she coos, as if comforting a child. “I’ll, uh, let you name one of them?”

At that, Elsa draws back slightly, shooting Anna a half-glare. Not at all threatening, but it does show that she’s bothered. “… Three dogs and you’re letting me name _one._ ”

“Hey, I think I get a say in the names of our children. I’m going to be a parent, too!”

She gives the redhead an eye-roll. “You’re going to spoil them so much.”

“On the contrary,” Anna cuts in, “I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be the strict one. You, on the other hand…” she pauses, recalling how Elsa was so caught up playing with the little Shiba back at the café, along with how she always put Pooh ahead of everything ever since Anna got him for her at Disney Land, “… would probably be the one to give them treats whenever I’m not looking.”

Elsa answers with a hum, like she is agreeing but isn’t voicing it out loud.

And Anna will take that. She’s officially won this ‘argument’, after all. They lay there in silence, just stroking through each other’s hair, fingers dancing along skin. Comfortable. Warm.

“I’ll work hard.” Elsa suddenly says, just as Anna is about to drift off.

“Hmm…?” she can barely keep her eyes open.

“I want us to live together,” Elsa whispers. “So I… I’ll do my best.”

She smiles.

How very like Elsa to set the goal so high. If Anna weren’t already half-asleep, she’d tell the girl to save some of the working for her. To not shoulder everything herself. Because unlike before, Elsa’s not alone anymore. What she told this girl back in spring—it wasn’t a lie.

Anna wants to support her.

And, seeing how they are right now, this goal may not be so distant.

* * *

But to achieve that goal, there are obstacles that the two of them must overcome. As Anna tries to cherish the remainder of the week, time itself does not wish to be on her side.

Even though she is trying to live life as naturally as she can, even though she is living it the way that she always does at the end of each summer, she feels like everything is sped up. The pendulum swings faster, the hours pass by like minutes, and that dread that has been haunting her over the summer intensifies. Is this how it feels like when your life is coming to an end? God, it definitely is. Is she being overly dramatic? Yeah, _no shit_ she is, but damn it, can she help it?!

Anna knows full well how much of an emotional wreck she is, but she does not know how _bad_ she is at hiding it. Every single friend she’s met up with for the past week have her end up tearing. The girls, the _BoyZzZz_ (at least, the remainder of them—Ariel has already flown to England and Hans has gone off to Dartmouth), and now, there’s Rapunzel.

“Update me if you and Eugene ever actually become a thing, okay?” Anna tells her best friend through a shaky whisper when they hug. “And call me at least once a week! Don’t be ghosting me! Or I’m going to be really pissed.”

“Oh, please,” Rapunzel says in an equally trembling voice, except she’s a lot better at acting natural. “You think I’m Mulan? I’m not the type to do something so mean.”

She breaks into a soft giggle. It’s just a joke. Mulan isn’t one to ghost people either, but it’s still fun to poke fun at friends when they’re not around. “I’ll be sure to tell her that if I ever visit her in L.A.”

“Uh huh. You let her know.” The golden blonde draws back from the hug to wipe away her tears. She gives herself a moment before continuing, “Where are you going now?”

“Elsa’s coming to pick me up,” Anna says as she looks at her phone to check the time. “We’re probably going to go catch a movie. Hang out a bit before dinner.”

“Mmn,” Rapunzel nods. “Date night?”

She nods. “I _am_ leaving in two days. Tomorrow’s going to be family day. So, yeah, date night it is.”

“Busy, busy,” Rapunzel says. “I’ll be heading off, then.”

“Hey, if you don’t mind waiting a bit, I can ask Elsa to drive you home.”

Her friend smiles, but she shakes her head. “I won’t be needing that.”

“Why not?” Just ask she says that, a familiar engine’s sound approaches. It doesn’t surprise Anna one bit to see Elsa in her signature Mercedes, waving to her. She waves back, of course, grinning with affection before whipping her head back to face her best friend. “She’s here right now, we’ll just drop you off—”

“It’s okay,” Rapunzel shakes her head again. She takes a step backwards. “Next time, alright?”

Anna just tilts her head, confused.

Her friend’s grin is wide, playful—but more so understanding than anything, if such a definition can even be used to describe a grin. “I’ll see you when you come back to visit, Anna.”

She blinks. “Or… when we have video calls. Don’t forget about that.”

“I won’t,” Rapunzel laughs. “Buh-bye. Take care of yourself over there, don’t make me worry.”

Anna shoots her a glare. “Yes, _mother._ ”

She sees her best friend off, and there is this distinct sense of… _hm,_ what is it? She doesn’t want to call it sadness, nor is it exactly melancholy. Perhaps… nostalgia? Okay, yeah, whatever. Let’s go with that. There’s this sense of nostalgia when she watches Rapunzel’s back. They always see each other off because, y’know, they’ve known each other since forever. Since they could barely form coherent sentences. They had been with each other throughout all of their childhood, and it’s hitting Anna now that for the first time, she’s not going to share that first day of school experience with Rapunzel.

She heaves a sigh, turning around to head towards Elsa’s car. But if she were to look so dejected, it would only make Elsa worry. So, she does her best to feign a cheerful tone. Be energetic. Flirty. _Anything._

“ _Ooh_. Would you look at this? My Uber driver is the sexiest thing in the world!” Anna says, wriggling her brows.

Making Elsa blush aside, she isn’t really that successful in diverting the subject. Because through the joke, the blonde sees right through her, as she always does. Elsa turns off the engine to reach for her hand. Anna, in turn, clenches her jaw. Yep, she really sucks at pretending—especially in front of Elsa. Her façade cracks, and her smile becomes more forced than ever.

“Everything okay?” comes Elsa’s soft voice.

“Mhmm.” She keeps the façade going, though. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s good. Lunch was great, Rapunzel was being her usual, goofy self, and… yeah. Everything’s good.”

No more than a heartbeat later, Elsa removes her seatbelt. She reaches for Anna’s cheek, caressing her soft skin, just below her waterline and starts, as carefully as possible, “Anna.”

Is it stupid that she’s starting to feel scared now? Is it stupid to say that she doesn’t want to go? Oh, man. Anna thought she could handle this pretty well—honestly, she _did_ handle this pretty well for the past few months. So, why does she feel such a need to break down now of all times?

When she starts fiddling with her fingers, that’s the cue for Elsa to speak up. It’s also the cue for Anna to hold back—hold back from crying.

Because Elsa’s body comes in, leaning towards her and, as awkward as their position is, it’s comforting. It’s something that Anna doesn’t know she needs. She hides in Elsa’s braid, waits, and distracts herself by the blonde’s scent. These waves of discomfort in her heart pass by, and although they are merely tiny stings—nothing severe—the feeling hits her deeper and deeper. And so, she breathes in just as deeply, just to numb herself of that dull sensation.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into Elsa’s hair. “Just… let me hug you a little while longer.”

She hears Elsa’s audible smile, and Anna doesn’t need anything more. Elsa’s smile and Elsa’s hug. It’s all that she needs. Anna closes her eyes, feeling nothing less than privileged for being able to feel Elsa’s fingers as they comb through her hair; she revels at the soft touch of Elsa’s hand as it strokes her back. Elsa’s effortless ability to soothe her by merely existing— _please,_ just let her stay like this for a bit more.

“You’ll be okay,” Elsa says into her ear. “It’s hard to replace people you love, but…” she pauses, drawing back slightly so that they’re face to face, “There’s always joy in discovering new things.”

Anna takes a moment to process Elsa’s words. They’re layered with a meaning that she believes only she can understand, like it is a lesson that Elsa has learned with her— _through_ her.

“Mmn.” Anna nods. “I know.” She smiles, eyes gleaming when she catches Elsa’s tender gaze.

The fact that Elsa’s lost so much in the past but can still radiate so brightly is more than an inspiration. Yes, Elsa is her inspiration for more than one reason.

Anna comes in for one more hug, making sure to squeeze her girlfriend tighter than ever.

“A-Anna, I can’t breathe…”

She giggles in response, pulling back to greet Elsa with a playful grin. “Can’t help it. You’re so much fun to hug.”

Elsa pokes her on the tip of her nose, huffing in mock-annoyance and puts on her seatbelt. She takes out her phone to, presumably, check the schedule for movies. “So. What movie did you want to watch?”

“No preference,” Anna puts on her seatbelt as well. “Anything that fits the time, but a comedy would be nice.”

“So much for ‘no preference’,” Elsa smiles. She scrolls down the screen, and Anna sees her tapping on a few buttons. Oh, is she getting VIP seats? Wait, those are, like, three times the price! Isn’t that a bit too much? It’s so extra and unnecessary and—what the hell, she should just tell her.

“Hey—”

_Bzz bzz bzz_

They’re interrupted by a soft rumbling sound which comes from Elsa’s phone. Curious, Anna looks to the screen of the car, and it is there she spots the word, _Grandfather._

Immediately, a distinct silence fills the space, and Anna can swear that she feels her heart drop. B-but that’s just dumb, isn’t it? To freak out over a simple word. Like, come on. It’s just… um.

She shifts her eyes to Elsa.

Who, unsurprisingly, looks lost? Happy? Confused? A mix of all three, perhaps. And so, as the phone continues to vibrate, as the ‘ _Grandfather’_ remains on the screen, the two are stuck in silence.

That is, until Anna reaches for Elsa’s shoulder, shaking her a little. “Elsa?”

The girl in question jumps. Hesitantly, she turns to Anna. Her brows are knitted in worry, but she looks like she is smiling. Like she is relieved. And it doesn’t take a genius to understand what this expression means.

Anna giggles. “Come on. Pick up the phone!”

The smile turns into a wide grin, and Elsa presses the little phone icon on her steering wheel. “Hello? Grandfather?” her voice comes out delicate, fragile.

 _“Ah, good afternoon, Elsa.”_ He is on speaker, through the surround sound system of the car, and his deep, commanding voice that Anna remembers so well reverberates in the car. Jeez, it’s almost as though the man is actually right here with them. _“I apologize for calling so suddenly. You must be busy.”_

“No, no, I’m…” Elsa shakes her head and waves her hand, as though the man on the other side of the phone can see. It’s cute. One of the many quirks that makes Elsa, _Elsa_. “… Please don’t apologize, I’m glad that you called. It’s been so long, and—how are you, grandfather?”

 _“Oh, I’m fine. Nothing out of the ordinary,”_ he says. _“What about you, Elsa? How have you been? Did you just return from your trip?”_

“I’m well, grandfather, thank you for asking.” Elsa says. “And, yes, I returned less than a week ago.” She pauses, stopping to play with the end of her braid—a gesture of nervousness, Anna notes. “I apologize that I didn’t inform you earlier. I thought you were out of the country, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

_“It’s no matter, my child. I had just come back from Shanghai myself.”_

Elsa blinks. “You were in Asia as well, grandfather?”

 _“Indeed. There was a showroom the company’s partner hosted that I had to attend,”_ he sighs. _“Nothing out of the ordinary. Though, flying has gotten quite tedious and exhausting.”_

Anna catches Elsa biting onto her lip, as though she wants to say something but is too scared to do so. On instinct, she reaches for Elsa’s hand, this time being the one to comfort her. The blonde gives her a half smile, like she’s saying _I’m okay,_ but Anna knows better. Because the truth is, this girl’s anxiety is likely shaken to her very core. That time her grandfather was sent to the hospital, Elsa was on the verge of a panic attack, and Anna’s only seen her— _anyone,_ for that matter—that scared once. Just once. She never wants to experience that again.

She never wants Elsa to suffer, ever again.

 _“In any case,”_ Elsa’s grandfather says, _“It is rather silly to be talking through the phone like this. I will be flying to Berlin next week, and you will be starting school again, correct? How about you come back to the estate for dinner tonight, Elsa? We have much to catch up on.”_

Anna forgets to breathe. Actually, both of them forget to breathe. Again, Anna shifts to look at the blonde, who, just as well, turns so that they’re facing each other. There is no hesitation; Elsa hasn’t seen her grandfather for quite a while, and so there is no reason for her to reject the offer. Anna grips onto Elsa’s hand, catching her attention briefly to mouth her a _‘you should go’._

After all, what’s more important than family? She’s hung out with Elsa throughout the entirety of summer, so what’s a day less?

But Elsa holds on. She doesn’t let Anna pull that hand away. Instead, she sits more confidently, posture firm, and then she speaks up, eyes still lingering on Anna’s, “Grandfather.”

_“Yes?”_

She swallows. The lump in her throat bobs.

Anna can see the girl taking deep breaths.

Then, finally, Elsa continues, “May I bring a friend to dinner?”

_“… Oh?”_

She nods, even though her grandfather can’t see. “You’ve met her once already, and, um… I would really like to introduce her to you properly.”

 _“I’ve met her, you say?”_ A momentary pause. A breath of air. And then, strangely, a chuckle. _“I see. Very well. Do as you like, Elsa. I will be looking forward to seeing the both of you tonight.”_

“Thank you, grandfather,” Elsa says with a smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

The word ‘ _Grandfather’_ disappears. The screen reverts to its sleek media menu, and once more, silence fills the space.

It is only when Elsa puts her phone down, when she brings a hand up to cup her cheek, that Anna realizes what has happened.

“Um.”

Let it be known, Anna is legitimately freaking out right now. Her eyes are as wide as saucers and her entire body is tense. This has to be what it feels like to be tased. No doubt. Electric currents are running rapidly all over her veins. She’s— _no._ This is it. This is the end. _Oh god._ Anna swears that she will never feel more scared than right now for the rest of her life. Not even when she takes the LSATs. Not even when she attempts the bar exam. No. Nothing can be comparable. Granted, she’s never even done any of those things before, but _this_?! This is the real deal. The distinct pause is so heavy that Anna thinks somebody’s tied an anchor to her ankle and she’s sinking into the abyss of the Mariana Trench and she’s drowning and _drowning_ and nobody’s gonna save her—and. _Holy shit!_ S-she’s going to meet the family. She’s _officially_ meeting Elsa’s grandfather!

“Oh my god.” Anna rasps.

Elsa’s expression becomes wary, concerned. “O-oh dear. I should’ve asked you first, Anna, I’m—”

“Oh. My. _God._ ” She says again, cutting the blonde off. Anna scrambles in her seat. She reaches for the buckle of her seatbelt but quickly abandons it to touch handle of the door. She abandons that, only to straighten herself; Anna pulls down the sun visor to look at her reflection through the mirror. That doesn’t last long either, because not more than a second later, she pushes it back up, only to scramble in her seat once more.

“Anna, what are you doing?”

Tongue caught in her throat, Anna’s first few words are gibberish, followed by a very shaky, “I-I’m freaking out, Elsa. That’s what I’m doing!”

Where Elsa would usually show empathy and comfort, this time, she’s laughing. “I think telling you to relax isn’t going to help the situation.”

“Y-you think?!”

“Now you know how I felt when I had to meet your parents for the first time.” The blonde covers her mouth with a dainty palm, and—how dare she! She’s still laughing!

“I hate you.” Anna grumbles, burying her face in her palms.

“Love you, too,” Elsa reaches for the back of her neck, massaging her there to ease the tension.

Yes, now she knows exactly how Elsa felt on that fateful day. It really was funny then, but now that she’s the one experiencing it… _god._ “Ugh…” Anna groans. “I feel sick…”

“Yeah, okay.”

Anna can almost _hear_ her girlfriend rolling her eyes, and while this is all very entertaining to Elsa (Anna can easily relate), there’s a heavy weight in her chest. It brings her back to that time, back to the hospital. Back to that one moment where she felt most incompetent— _ever—_ in her life. Sure, this isn’t the first time Anna’s meeting Elsa’s grandfather, but she wasn’t exactly at her best the previous time, nor did she present herself in the way that she wanted to.

That’s why this is so important to her.

That’s why this time, she wants to do it right.

“… Hey, Elsa?”

“Hmm?”

But it’s scary. The uncertainty, the fear that comes with it all—it sends chills everywhere. It becomes impossible to stop herself from fiddling with her fingers. _God._ Are Elsa’s nerves contagious? Did she always have a habit of playing with her hands like this?

“Anna, if you don’t want to go, I can—”

“No, I…” Anna takes a deep breath. “It’s not that.”

“Then, what is it?” Elsa asks. She continues to stroke along Anna’s neck, lightly brushing at the tiny hairs there. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Elsa doesn’t know about the conversation Anna’s had with her grandfather. It’s not a problem that Elsa needs to shoulder, and so there is no reason for her to know. It’s something that Anna will deal with herself. She will be better, grow to be more confident, supportive, and _capable,_ all for Elsa. But before she can accomplish any of this, Anna understands that she is, very much, still a child.

So, just once. Just give her a bit of strength. Just _once._ “Elsa,” she calls again.

“I’m here,” her girlfriend answers attentively.

She pinches the tips of her fingers. Deep breaths. Again and again. “Do you, um—d-do you think your grandfather will like me? Will I be good enough?”

Elsa stills.

Anna isn’t looking. Far too nervous to look up.

“Anna.”

Uh oh. Serious voice. Anna shirks.

“Anna,” Elsa calls again. “Look at me.”

She has to listen. This is Elsa being serious, after all. Hesitantly, Anna raises her head, turning to face the blonde.

And Elsa, ever so loving, greets her with a warm smile. “You’re impossible to dislike.” She scoots closer, taking both of Anna’s hands into her own. “And even though I will say that grandfather is hard to please, I know you will find a way to make him fall in love with you.”

 _Gulp._ “No pressure at all,” Anna attempts to joke.

“No, there is no pressure,” Elsa grins. “You’re naturally good at everything that you do, remember?”

A long, drawn-out sigh escapes her, just as she slouches in her seat.

“Come on, Anna. Sit up. We have some time before dinner. We can still catch a movie—”

“No.”

Elsa, being interrupted so abruptly, turns to raise a curious brow at the redhead.

Anna straightens herself. A look of determination. She grabs Elsa’s hand and clenches onto it tightly. _Fine, then._ If they’re doing this, they’re doing this right _._ No half-assing. She glances at the time on the media screen, mentally laying out a schedule for what must be done for this plan of hers to work. Then, she glances down at herself and thinks immediately: _no,_ this is much too casual. T-shirt and shorts? Not at all sophisticated. This won’t do.

“Anna…?”

Elsa’s voice breaks her out from her deep thought. With the same, determined look, Anna’s gaze is sharp— _alive_. “Do you mind if we went home first? I want to change into something nicer.”

The blonde blinks.

“I want to leave a good impression,” she says. “I want your grandfather to know that I’m serious about you.”

Now, what else does Anna expect from saying that? Of course Elsa’s face would turn crimson! Of course the air between them would thicken, and _of course_ Anna herself would feel blood rushing up to her head. _Jeez,_ she really has to think before she speaks.

“O-oh, um…” Elsa stutters, trying desperately to think of an appropriate response.

Anna screams at herself that her next words need to be careful, not at all improvised, otherwise she’d just end up sounding like an idiot. “… He is going to be my future-grandfather-in-law, Elsa,” she ends up saying, “I’m not joking around.”

Elsa, quite humorously, dips her head in an act of nervousness, shyness— _whatever—_ and tries to hide her blush (though futile) that is spreading throughout her body by now. “I-I know you’re not…” she mumbles. “But did you have to say it like that…?”

“Like what?”

“Like…!” Elsa squeaks. “Like you’re getting ready to ask my grandfather for his… his b-blessing!”

Hearing that, Anna becomes genuinely confused. “Pretty sure if I’m able to get him to like me, the blessing is already there, no?”

“It doesn’t work that way!”

“What, you want me to ask again when the time comes?”

“Wha _—_ w-what _time_?” Elsa’s voice is getting increasingly shaky.

“Uh,” does she really have to say it out loud? Is Elsa that dense? “… when I propose to you?”

“ _Anna!_ ”

She jumps.

“Y-you just turned eighteen, and I—I’m only twenty!”

This time, Anna is _really_ confused. “Yeah…? Well, in about five-ish years, we’ll actually be married, won’t we?”

“Five?!” Elsa gasps. “That’s too soon. I-I don’t know if I’ll be ready—I mean, I’ll have to have a decent income, and, um. We’ll need a place of our own, remember? And then there’s also—”

“Elsa,” she grips the girl’s hand firmly, steadying her because, _boy,_ it’s almost as though the wind can topple her over. Metaphorically speaking, of course. They’re inside a car, for goodness’ sake.

Elsa ignores her. She just goes on, rambling in her own way, “… also, i-if it’s really going to be five years from now, I need to be financially stable…”

And as she continues, Anna can only think: is there no end to Elsa’s _cuteness?_ What can Elsa do that would make Anna get fed up with her? Honestly, probably nothing. Elsa can become super whiny (which is unlikely) or she can even turn into a bum (even more unlikely) and Anna is certain that she will still unconditionally love this girl.

“… so that we can actually have a comfortable lifestyle. _Oh,_ Anna, there’s so much I need to—”

She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t _get_ to finish. Anna has leaned over, sealing their lips together. Which just makes Elsa blush, obviously, but before she can pull back to complain, Anna speaks up. “I think telling _you_ to relax isn’t going to help the situation, hmm?”

A pout. Elsa puckers her lower lip as her reddened cheeks puff up. “You’re being a bully.”

“Aw,” Anna smiles. “ _Ish wittle Elsha angwy?”_

If it were even possible, the colour on Elsa’s cheeks deepens even more, but before she can pull away too much, Anna catches her. As smoothly as their awkward positions allow, she wraps her arms around Elsa, keeping her in a sideways-hug. Anna doesn’t dilly-dally; she buries her face into Elsa’s neck and, _god,_ that signature aroma of lavender—she loves it. Anna inhales as she holds her tight—holds her protectively.

Then, she whispers, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Elsa remains still, as if waiting for her to continue.

Anna breathes in. Her hands come up to frame Elsa’s face but she doesn’t move from her position. _No,_ Elsa’s shoulder is too comfortable. She never wants to move. Never wants to be separated from this girl. “Being able to live with you is my goal as well,” she eventually says. “So don’t hog all the work. Let me help.”

In that instant, Elsa’s body softens up. Like, she _melts._ Slowly, her arms come up to wrap around Anna, holding her with a similar protective strength.

“I really am serious about you, Elsa. I want him to know.”

Elsa nods. She hides in Anna’s hair.

And Anna hears Elsa’s steady breaths. In and out, _in and out._ She feels Elsa in her arms, feels her warmth, feels _her._ It’s all the assurance that she needs. Anna’s lips trail up the column of Elsa’s neck, her jaw, cheek, a closed eyelid—back down to the cheek, then to the corner of her lips. She draws back slightly to grin, and the two are caught in a fit of giggles, where their fingertips are just dancing along each other’s cheeks. Light pinches, squeezes. It is a chaste and tender moment. One that is minuscule and fleeting, but all the more precious.

“Then, let’s go,” Elsa says. “I want grandfather to meet you properly. He really will fall in love with you.”

Anna’s heart rushes. “Well. Y’know. Again, that spot’s reserved for you. My one true love will only ever be you,” she tries to joke. Hopefully, this can mask how nervous she is. “But, um. Home first, remember? Gotta wear something nicer.”

“You already look nice, Anna.”

“To you.”

“To _everyone._ ” Elsa corrects. “I… I really like it when you’re by my side. I’ve never felt like I’d earned any of the things that I have right now,” she says. “This car, my clothes… everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. Smiling, she continues, albeit sheepishly. “Just. I like it when people look at us when we walk together. I like it when they look at you because… I—I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to put it in words.” Elsa chews on her lower lip, her voice decreasing in volume. “It makes me feel prouder, I think. The fact that I get to show you off to the world. The fact that it reminds me how lucky I am to have a girlfriend as beautiful as yourself.”

…

 _Whew_. That’s a lot. A lot of information with so few words.

Anna breathes. God _, breathe, Anna, breathe._ Elsa and her words of flattery. “Um.” She coughs. Clears her throat. “No point trying to suck up to me.”

Elsa holds the ignition button. The engine stirs up in a commanding whirr and before Elsa puts the car on drive, she takes Anna’s hand, bringing it to her lips. It makes Anna jump. Surprise. Stunned. And—just… every single time. She’s so easily enraptured by Elsa’s flushed cheeks. It happens far too naturally.

This moment is cut short—enhanced, even, when Elsa whispers to her, “There’s a point in everything that I do with you, Anna.”

Her breath hitches. She struggles for the words, but what she can manage to do is laugh. Force it out.

“I’m serious about you as well,” Elsa says. “And I’ll work hard. I’ll work extra hard for you.”

She wants to cry. God, her entire body fights to tremble but Anna begs herself to react naturally. Hum, grunt, bob her head, _do something!_ When Elsa pulls the car out of its parking spot, Anna takes the opportunity to look out the window. The scenery whips by in a blur, and she’s unsure whether it is because of the speed they’re going at or the tears in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay guys, school and work got hectic. i also have to apologize for how uneventful this chapter is. originally, it's supposed to cover up to anna's departure, but that went well over 30k words??? anyway, i hope you enjoyed this despite how short it is (no, seriously. at 7k, it's one of the shortest chapters so far D: )
> 
> also, please check out my new one-shot “halcyon” if you haven’t! gotta improve my Elsa POV writing skills and everything xd


End file.
